The Devil is Also an Angel
by Dr. Emma Hamish Winchester
Summary: Post Season 3 Fixit. After everything goes down with Peirce, Lucifer's injuries are discovered and he is sent to the hospital. There, he and Chloe get an opportunity to figure out their changed reality. - Part 1 is Complete. I am currently working on a sequel/continuation in the same story file -
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

"It's true. It's all true." Chloe stared at him, horror and fear etched across her face as she stood there, utterly and completely motionless, like a frozen rabbit staring at a slathering wolf about to eat it.

It was an odd, confusing reaction. Cain lay on the ground, dead, obviously by Lucifer's own hand. He could understand her having some reaction to that, as she had once been about to marry the murderous cretin, but her focus wasn't on the body. It was on him, his face.

Lucifer moved toward her, cocking his head slightly in confusion, "Detective?"

Nothing. She didn't move, didn't speak, just stared at him, paralyzed, like he was some kind of… monster. It was the same catatonic reaction Linda had had when he showed her his devil face. But Chloe couldn't be seeing that. That was gone, wasn't it?

The angel hesitantly glanced toward a large metal plate nearby, fearful of what he might find there, then recoiled as his gaze met burning dark orbs set deep in a horrible red mask. It was back.

Many emotions ran through him in that moment: A familiar shiver of horror and deep-rooted self-hatred, the thought that he had killed a human _Oh bloody hell he had killed a __**human**_ That was still sinking in, fear, defiance _Cain needed to die, besides it was self-defense, why the hell should he be punished_, more horror, but mostly an overwhelming knowledge that Chloe had seen his devil face, the worst part of himself, the absolute last way he ever would have wanted her to see it. As soon as he knew it was there it was gone, shoved down and hidden along with his self-hatred, but it was too late. She had seen it and she wasn't saying anything. She hadn't even moved or looked away.

The thought of what that might mean terrified him.

They stood there for seconds, staring at each other, the human paralyzed with fear and the angel utterly lost as to how to approach his precious broken pet.

"LAPD!" Police swarmed in around them, a sea of people that finally broke their gaze. Cries for a medic rang through the space as someone realized Chloe had been shot and was in shock. Lucifer could only watch as she was pulled away outside, his own unacknowledged shock stretching it all into slight slow motion. Years later he could still recall her traumatized face, the exact words the medics yelled as they moved, the swing of her ponytail as she was pulled through the crowd.

He stared after her until she was gone.

Dan's vengeful voice next to him pulled him back to reality, "Well, there you go. Ashes to ashes you bastard. Hope it's warm where you are." Dan stood over the body, then as if wanting to do something, anything to hurt the man it had once contained, he kicked it.

"Daniel-" Lucifer wanted to reassure the grief-stricken human, let him know that Charlotte was in heaven, finally at peace, free of her trauma and crippling fear, and Cain was most definitely gone and suffering in Hell. That empty vessel couldn't hurt anyone ever again.

"Forget it man. I'm fine." Dan turned to face him. His short tone and tight face belayed his statement, but Lucifer had learned long ago that humans did not appreciate it when others challenged such statements in times of emotional distress. Accordingly, he decided not to call him on it.

"What happened?"

It took Lucifer a moment to get his story together. He wouldn't lie, of course, but there were certain details that needed… vagueness. Thankfully Dan didn't seem to be a in mood to question much. He could probably say rabid squirrels had shown up out of nowhere and killed Cain and poor dear Daniel would have just nodded along.

"Well The Detective and I came to the address that Peirce's lying goon provided… to protect his sister as you know. It was a trap. Peirce was waiting –" Lucifer gestured broadly to the injured men slowly being gathered, arrested, and loaded into waiting ambulances "- With all these miscreants, to kill us." He paused, gathering emotional strength for what came next. Chloe was shot. "I of course rushed her out as soon as the shooting started, but she was already…" He trailed of, unable to continue despite his preparation. He desperately wanted to race to the hospital to make sure Chloe was okay, like all the other times he had kept vigil by her bed until she awakened, but he couldn't. This time his presence would only hurt her.

That was his fault.

Dan broke into his thoughts, gesturing around them, "Yeah, I know. So, uh, if you two left, how did all this happen?"

Of course. The police needed the rest of his statement. "Well, I deposited The Detective a safe distance away and then returned. We knew too much and Peirce had made it quite clear that he would hunt us down. Loose ends and all that. He needed to be apprehended."

"And all these guys?"  
"They got in the way." Lucifer replied mildly.

Dan nodded with only slight incredulity. He had seen Lucifer in enough fights not to question how he could have subdued multiple gunmen alone and unarmed.

"What about Peirce?" He peered closer at the blade sticking out of the corpse's chest; more specifically at the rather distinctive etched handle. "Is that Maze's knife? Where did all these feathers come from?"

_YOU KILLED A __**HUMAN **_The words knelled in Lucifer's brain, accusing. _YOU SENT HIM TO __**HELL**__, ON __**PURPOSE**_

He chose not to answer the second or third questions. 'I don't know' would have been a lie, and anything else would have only prompted more questions. "He drew a knife. We fought. He attempted to stab me and we struggled over the knife. It all- It all happened so fast-" The voice in his head wasn't accepting excuses, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Dan nodded as he finished writing. "Okay, self-defense. Sounds good. We'll probably have to ask you a few more questions, but you know. It's probably fine. Hey, good job. That son of a bitch got what was coming to him." As he shifted to move away Dan slapped the angel hard on the back, out of a comrodic habit more than anything else.

To the human's surprise Lucifer released an involuntary scream, nearly collapsing to the ground in blinding pain. The only thing that kept him from hitting the ground was Dan, who caught him while yelling for a medic and an ambulance, and "_Dammit, you're bleeding! Why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?!" _when his hand came away red from the back of Lucifer's suit jacket.

"I'm fine, Daniel." Lucifer forced out.

"Where is it coming from?! Where the _hell_ were you shot? **MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!**"

His bullet-riddled retracted wings had been excruciating all along, but something about the sudden impact had nearly made him pass out. It was worse than the time Dan slapped him on the back immediately after he had amputated his wings a year ago. Why did the Douche keep doing that?

Dan, meanwhile, had found the bullet holes in the front of his shirt, as well as the complete lack of corresponding wounds, with a soft muttered, "_What the hell?"_ and was now trying to direct the medics in their job.

"I'm fine, Daniel. I just need to go home." Yes. Go back to the penthouse and drink, do some drugs. He had several large bottles of laudanum remaining from a questionable source that would help with the pain. That stuff worked. If he downed enough to kill a human, he would either be mostly pain-free or too high to care. He would likely be in agony for a few days and sleeping on his back was out of the question, but at least there wouldn't be _x-rays _or _blood tests_ or any number of other things that would send Amenadiel into conniptions over proof of divinity.

Right. As if Amenadiel would ever be back.

There was another scream of pain as the EMTs tried to lay their uncooperative patient flat on his back on a gurney. Accordingly they flipped him onto his stomach and carefully wheeled him out, yelling some medical nonsense he didn't understand. Lucifer started to protest again as they loaded him into the same ambulance with Chloe.

"_NO! _Damn you!" The words escaped him before he could stop it. He was quite certain Chloe's proximity was the reason his wounds had reopened with Dan's actions, the reason he could feel the bleeding worsening under his skin each time he was jostled. If they would insist on looking him over he needed a different hospital, let alone a different ambulance. He hadn't planned on saying it out loud in front of her though.

It didn't seem to change anything. He watched her as much as he could on the way to the hospital. Her entire demeanor had changed the second he appeared. She sat there, huddled as far away from him as she could get, staring in abject terror with eyes as large as saucers. He felt his expensive suit jacket and shirt being cut off him so the paramedics could work, listened to the confused reaction to the strange internal swelling and exclamations of 'where the hell is this coming from' as blood leaked from the invisible openings where his wings came out, but his focus was entirely on Her. Chloe didn't even glance at the bustle or express concern at his distress, which was entirely unlike her. She just sat there, petrified, as if the slightest movement might result in death.

Their staring contest continued the entire way to the hospital.

* * *

Chloe had cowered away as much as she could as her recent partner was loaded in with her. She wanted to scream, to grab Trixie and run and run and never look back. Every instinct, every fiber of her being yelled at her to escape. The fear was something deep, primal, a bullhorn screaming in her face to get AWAY. It wasn't much better at the hospital, even after they were separated and she lay alone in a hospital gown, still frozen in a cold sterile bed in a cold sterile white room, that face hovering in front of her vision.

Her thoughts swirled, moving in sputters and loops through her traumatized brain. Each realization brought on others, branching spiderweb cracks in her shattering mind.

Lucifer had been telling the truth. He was Lucifer. _**THE **_Lucifer. The actual Devil who she had always regarded as a myth. She had _kissed_ the actual Devil. Multiple times. She had _loved_ him. She couldn't love him.

She had dreamed about taking the actual Devil to bed. Many, many times. That had to be some variety of mortal sin or other.

Yep. Dream about sleeping with the Devil, one-way ticket straight to Hell. Going through with it was probably worse. Which meant most of LA was definitely screwed.

This coming on the heels of learning that Peirce, her precinct's lieutenant, the man she almost _married_, was a serial killer and head of a criminal empire. No, wait, everything Lucifer had told her was true, which meant he was Cain. Which was worse, and insane. And he was an immortal who only cared about dying, which was also insane. There was a sickening moment as she recalled the time Peirce told her the Sinnerman killed his brother, and she had _commiserated_ with him. That would be Abel, who according to Genesis got his head beaten in with a rock. Not a quick or clean way to kill someone, and it spoke to Peirce's coldness.

How old had they been when that happened? Many pure psychopaths got their first taste of violence abusing family members after all. Had he ever felt the slightest bit of remorse?

Why was her taste in men so insanely bad? First Dan, who was a dirty cop, a murderer, and had let her think she was crazy for a year, then the actual Devil, then actual Cain. Why couldn't she find anyone normal? Was there something wrong with her, that she was attracted to such bad choices?

If Lucifer's identity wasn't a metaphor that meant everything else was true too. Not just Peirce's identity, everything. Amenadiel was an angel. Lucifer's oft-mentioned father was God. Trixie's favorite babysitter, her _roommate,_ was an actual demon from Hell.

Okay, that one made sense. Explained a lot actually. Didn't make it easier to think about Trixie being left in such a creature's care, but it wasn't any worse than when she had just been… Maze.

Who was she? Why would Chloe Jane Decker, out of everyone on earth, get personal attention from the Devil? Didn't he have more important people to damn? Was this some weird Faustian plot? Was that it? Was he just after her soul for some weird reason and she was proving extra difficult? But why would he care about _her_ soul? She was nobody.

"_I'm the devil."_

"_No you're not. Not to me."_ Then she had _kissed_ him. Oh dear God, was she really that much of an idiot? That was two days ago. Strange how much could happen in two days.

"Hey." Dan's voice pulled her slightly out of her ongoing crisis. She had missed him entering the room. His face was somber and he had his hands on his hips. Still, his expression betrayed how much of a toll the last couple of days had been. He looked down before speaking, relief and misery battling for control on his face. "So, I talked to your doctor. They- They're saying you weren't actually shot. I- I mean you were, but somehow the bullet just left deep bruising without actually penetrating your chest." Dan paused, "He called it a miracle. Like you – Like you somehow just spontaneously healed or something."

Chloe's hand instinctively moved to touch the place. 'Miracle.' She was pretty sure she knew who had healed her, and it definitely wasn't any miracle. 'Satanic Act,' maybe.

'_You're safe. That's all that matters'_

Dan cleared his throat, still not meeting her eye, "There's more. Lucifer was hurt somehow. They're trying to deal with it but he won't cooperate, which is just typical."

Normally she would have taken umbrage with Dan's resentful tone - she had thought he was past this sort of petty anger after all – but right now she just couldn't summon the energy to defend Lucifer. What did it really matter anyway if Dan called the Devil _uncooperative_, when he had almost certainly committed horrible atrocities? She couldn't help remembering Lucifer's callousness, his utter and complete desensitization to every depth of cruelty and wondered how many times he had inflicted similar 'punishments,' both in Hell and out of it. How many times he might have done such things just for fun.

"Chloe? Did you hear me? Lucifer's injured. He's bleeding from god-knows-where and his back is weirdly swollen. It just keeps getting worse." Dan gestured towards his own back demonstrably. "I mean it's… awful. The doctors say internal bleeding like that shouldn't even be possible in that area. He won't let anyone close enough to properly examine him and he keeps trying to check himself out… and… and…" Her ex-husband finally sighed, dragging himself out of his surprisingly worried tirade, gathered himself up, then got to the point, "He says he'll talk to you. Only you."

That broke through the haze. She shook her head in desperation, releasing a gasp that was almost a sob. "No."

Dan ran a hand through his hair, pacing in a circle. "Chloe, normally you can't get enough of him. What happened in there? Did that bastard hurt you somehow? Was he working with Peirce?"

"No no, of course not." She really was sobbing now, tears rolling down her face. "You can't ask me to do this." She had a newfound understanding of all the suspects they had found cowering on the floor in front of their consultant. That horrible irrational fear had filled her again at the thought of him, that terrible pure horror like there was something waiting in the dark. The worst part was that she couldn't give any real reason for it. Whatever his cultural reputation as the Devil, whatever personal reasons he may or may not have had for his actions, however terrifying that face had been, he had always been kind to her. He had helped her, supported her, even risked his own life to protect her. Even with her newfound knowledge it was difficult to think of him as anything other than Lucifer. Her Lucifer. And the fact remained that her Lucifer needed her now, had begged for her attention, and she couldn't go. Just the thought of seeing him again was paralyzing.

Dan eased himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed, carefully taking her hand. "I don't know what happened in there, or why you're suddenly scared of him, but you're the only one that can help. You just have to talk. Convince him to accept medical treatment, then you can leave. I'll be there, right outside, if you need me. Please. The staff need this."

Slowly, eventually, she nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hello Everyone! Thank you so much to everyone waiting for this chapter, and a massive thanks to those who reviewed. You guys made my day!

**Bird Blue, Guest, Cathy Sullins, ShelbyT: **Normally I answer reviews individually in my author's notes, but since everyone essentially said the same thing I thought I would answer collectively. I love all of you! Thank you so much for your reviews. I cannot understate how much they encourage me to write. I already had this chapter finished, and was going to hold off on publishing it, but your wish is my command. Here you go!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Chloe steeled herself outside the room door. 312, nothing symbolic or demonic, just a random number. No one could have guessed what the room contained.

The alarm bells clanged louder than ever. _"RUN! RUN! GET AWAY! RUN!"_ She forced herself to ignore them. Lucifer had never hurt her. She would have to rely on that.

She didn't know what she had been expecting. Appropriate mood lighting, perhaps, total darkness? An abyss to come out of nowhere and swallow her whole? She felt like something should have changed to reflect her terrible new reality. It was a room, nothing more, almost identical to hers though on the third floor: harshly lit with an uncomfortable bed, thin sheets, and a couple of chairs near a sunny picture window.

Lucifer was sat in one of them, staring longingly at the view like a bird in a cage. Despite what Dan had said, someone had clearly gotten close enough to wrestle him out of his precious suit and into a hospital gown, which he somehow wore with the same poise and elegance as everything else. That horrible face was still absent though, and that finally gave her the courage to proceed.

"Lucifer."

He jumped up at her voice, clearly taking in in a moment her terrified expression and raised, calming hands; the same gesture she used when trying to pacify an armed suspect. She was also backed against the wall by the door, as far away as she could possibly get in that tiny room from the monster across from her.

For his part, he looked scared, worried. That surprised her. She had never seen him show fear of any kind: armed gunmen got a laugh and a flirtation, psychotic killers a sarcastic quip and a bad pun. He rushed blindly into danger and risked his life with a grin on his face. And now he looked scared.

Peirce didn't get emotional, and the Devil didn't get scared. Was it real? Was he faking for sympathy?

"Detective." He stopped, his eyes raking over her as if she might disappear, "You came."

He took a step toward her and she felt a surge of uncontrollable panic, "_DON'T!_"

It was heartbreaking, seeing the slightly hopeful expression turn into a kicked puppy, but he retreated back into the chair. "Yes, yes of course. Are you okay?"

Okay? No, she wasn't freaking okay!

Once she finally had her breathing back under control, she continued. "Dan told me you're hurt." She paused, waiting for a reaction, but there was none. "You need to let them help you. Please."

It was the eyes that betrayed him. There was something ancient in those eyes, dark, ageless and alien. It was like looking into a supernova and hoping for humanity. How had she never noticed that before?

"Detective, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Peirce- he attacked me and…"

"I don't care about _Peirce_. I care about-" She stopped herself from mentioning his Face. This wasn't about her or her fear. She had a job to do. "You need to let them do their jobs."

"You don't understand. I _can't._" He paused, "They insisted I show someone the wound so they can help. Completely unnecessary, of course, they can't help, but you're the only one here who…knows. I am aware it's selfish of me to approach you, right now, after… but you have to understand there isn't anyone else. Linda isn't answering her phone and Maze might still want to kill me, so…"

Was it some sort of supernatural injury? "What's wrong? Is it-" She gestured toward her face. Had Peirce burned his face off somehow and he was hiding it? That at least would be better than that… thing being what he actually was under the handsome veneer.

Wait, Linda knew he was the Devil?

Beelzebub waved a foppish hand dismissively. "No, no. That is entirely unrelated. It's-" He stared at her for a few moments, as though worried about her reaction. "It's my wings." The staring continued, then when she didn't respond he started pulling at the strings on his gown. "Right. Show, don't tell and all that."

Damn him. If he took _now _of all times as an excuse to strip, she really would throttle him.

"Sorry, darling, they aren't really fans of pants around here. Or trousers, it seems."

At least he didn't actually take it off. He just unfastened the back to get it out of the way, then stood and turned around.

Chloe bit back a gasp. It was as bad as Dan had said. His entire back was pillowed out with an awful dark blue bruise from blood trapped under his skin. Two large white bandages were taped between his shoulders, where the medical personnel thought they had tracked the blood flow to. It was the exact location where she had once seen horrible scars.

Absently, unthinking, she walked toward him in a fog and removed one of them.

It was as if she had unplugged a leak. Instantly blood started trickling down his unbroken skin. Removing the other simply caused the same on the other side. It was as if the blood was leaking out of his pores, or it was being forced out of some invisible orifice by the swelling.

Perfect skin, unmarked. "The burn scars… on your back. They're gone."

Lucifer uncomfortably turned around, backing away. He sported the same hurt expression he had had when she tried to touch his scars, the first time she saw him naked.

How was this her life? How was 'the first time' applicable to naked Lucifer?

He finally spoke, "They weren't burns, Detective. I told you. They were stumps." He paused, fear and pain flashing across his face in succession. "Right. Well, I suppose we must get to it… bloody hell, I need a drink." He let out a breath and continued. "Go tell them to turn off the security cameras. If they will insist on doing this, I refuse to allow video proof of it."

"I don't think there are security cameras in the rooms." A pointed look towards a subtle glass orb on the ceiling gave her her answer. Chloe sighed and walked to the door.

There was a metallic click as she turned the knob, and then she was back in the hallway, in a busy outside world she had almost forgotten existed when she was trapped in a space not much larger than a closet with an overly charming monster.

Finally free of the room, Chloe leaned her hands on her knees and started hyperventilating. Nothing had happened, but her nerves were stretched to breaking. Minutes passed, and she slowly started to calm down.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

She looked up to see Dan, hovering over her concernedly.

"He says he'll show me."

"That's great! Why are you out here?"

She sighed, still more focused on her breathing than the conversation. "He wants privacy. You have to tell them to turn off the cameras in his room."

Dan laughed, "There aren't-"

She gave him a stern look and he fell silent.

"Right. I'll go tell them."

She sat there, waiting, breathing, trying to make sense of things, until Dan returned and let her know it was done.

* * *

It was slightly easier this time. Lucifer gave her a pitiful, hopeful look as she entered the room and the eye contact didn't quite send her heart into her throat. "Are they off?"

She nodded.

"All right." He paused. "Stay back. I need some space." He carefully braced himself on the side rail of the bed, breathing heavily, as if trying to gear himself up to something. "We really don't have to do this. I can just go home." He paused at her determined look, then nodded. "Right. I suppose I should say, 'Do not be afraid,' but… it seems a bit late for that."

Something erupted from his back with a cry of agony and a sickening crunch, blood splattered against the window, and Chloe stumbled back against the wall in shock. Wings. Actual, real, massive wings had come out of his back and were now half-curled around him.

"AAAGH… bloody… shit…agh" Lucifer had collapsed forward in pain and was mostly supported by his grip on the bar.

The appendages were varying shades of red and brown, each feather soaked and clumped from hours spent marinating in a pocket of his own blood. Here and there down was missing in tufts, she supposed the source of the feathers in the atrium. Many of the large flight feathers seemed damaged; some were missing entirely. However, in general form and design they looked identical to the apparent fakes he had gotten so worked up about three years ago.

"Oh my God, Lucifer." She wanted to run to him, take his face in her hands and comfort him and let him know that everything was going to be okay, but she couldn't. She was still rooted to the spot by shock and the thought of that _face_.

"'M fine, D'tective." The creature was gradually forcing himself up, forcing himself to stand unassisted and swallow his pain, even as Chloe looked down and saw blood slowly dripping in fat, warm droplets onto the floor.

"You're not fine! You need a doctor, or a vet, or something! You need help!"

"And what am I supposed to say to them? Hm? That I'm an angel?! That I have wings?! I mean, I already broke you, I suppose what's a few more melted humans in the grand scheme of things?"

His voice was raw with pain and emotion, his face slightly crazed and desperate, and once again she dreadfully wanted to reassure him, "I'm not broken, Lucifer." She said with forced calm.

"Really? So you wouldn't run screaming if I did this?" He staggered a few steps toward her and Chloe forced herself not to back against the wall. She released a shaky breath, and doubtless her face showed her fear, but she didn't run. Regardless of everything, she couldn't let him die.

He looked heartbroken anyway, "They can't help me. I'll be fine; I'll heal. Don't worry about me, Detective."

A few more careful breaths, then decision made, she spoke. "We don't have to get the staff involved. I'll help you. I had a canary once when I was a kid, so…I know a little bit about birds."

The pained expression was now mixed with sarcastic incredulity, "A canary? Really, is that what I look like?" He sounded so _offended_; it almost made her smile.

She turned around and cracked open the door, just enough to get her head out. "Dan."

He rushed over, clearly concerned, "Chloe, what the hell is going on?"

"We need more blankets, and, um… is there an empty room with a shower on this floor?"

"I'll check." She watched him walk over to a nurse across the hall, then come back. "Yeah, there is. What's going on? Has he agreed to medical attention yet?" He moved, trying to peek around her head through the door.

Chloe paused, trying to think how to phrase things. "Um, not exactly. He was shot, but he'll let me treat him."

"You?" Dan sounded ready to laugh and irritation bubbled within her.

"Yeah. So… I need a room with a shower, a clear path to get there…no cameras or people, on the route or in the room, and lots of antiseptic and bandages. Oh, and I need my phone." Theoretically, Lucifer could furl his wings for the room change, but she didn't want to put him through more pain or risk worsening his injuries.

Dan really did laugh this time, "Chloe, I don't know-"

"Or he can check out against orders, and I really don't want him to do that."

Dan looked frustrated, "How am I supposed to swing that? You're not a medical professional; you're not supposed to treat anyone, or do I have to remind you?"

She didn't have the energy to glare at him. "Yeah, well, you know how Lucifer is." If she could pass this off as Lucifer being unreasonable, and not her own idea, there was a chance Dan might make sure it happened. "Please. It's really bad. There's so much blood." She allowed her trauma to show fully on her face, a bid to look pitiful and hopefully convey the urgency of the situation.

He finally nodded, "Okay. Fine. I'll see what I can do." Chloe waited for him to walk away before closing the door and turning back around, stern. "They're dealing with it. What happened with Peirce? How did we get out? And if you're vague, or if you start sidestepping details, I will call a real doctor." It would doubtless take a while for Dan to get everything arranged; she might as well spend that time getting answers. And while Lucifer didn't lie, he was a master of half-truths and twisted meaning, so a well-put threat felt prudent.

Lucifer looked pained, although she supposed that was a given. Still, he gingerly leaned back to sit against the bed, ignoring the red/brown trails and splotches that motion left on the sheets. "What do you remember?"

"Um. Peirce was going to shoot you. I got in his way and tried to talk him down. Then… then someone shot me."

The creature's gaze was level, "Anything else?"

She paused, thinking, "You yelled, I felt you catch me, then I woke up on a roof three blocks away, with you. How did we get out? He wanted us dead."

He picked up the story exactly as she had told it. "Pierce ordered his minions to shoot until we were dead. You were already shot, I was behind you, and there were automatic rifles between us and the exit. So, I shielded you the only way that I could."

Slowly Chloe's gaze traveled to his ruined wings, horrified as she realized what happened. "How many times were you shot?"

"I don't know. I waited for them to empty their magazines, then flew you out through the skylight."

He _flew_ with them in that condition? He carried a passenger?

He continued. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

She did same quick calculations. Modern automatic rifle magazines held between twenty to thirty rounds. Pierce had had six men. If she assumed they all had twenty bullet magazines, then… Lucifer had been shot around 120 times. It could easily have been more. Even if she assumed some had missed, that still put the number around 100.

And he had carried her. Not just that, he had tried to play his injuries off as no big deal.

Tears were pricking at her eyes now. "What? You were just going to go home and wait to bleed out? Why would you ever pretend you're fine?"

The poor thing actually looked confused. "I will be all right, Detective." He paused. "I considered leaving through the window, but it's too narrow."

The pane in question wasn't exactly small, but it definitely wasn't large enough for his 12-15 foot wingspan, 6' 3" self. Thank goodness. She had a horrible thought of him falling out of the sky and dying trying to get back to Lux.

There was just one thing she couldn't understand. "Why? Why me? Why would you care if I live or die?"

The confusion increased, "Well… because… I care about you, Detective. I…" There was a long pause. "I like you," He finally finished. For a second she had thought he was going to say something else, but instead his words hung in the air until she heard a knock on the door. Dan was there to tell her the arrangements were complete, and to complain about how difficult and embarrassing it was demanding those things from medical staff and if Lucifer would just think about other people for once in his life-

Chloe took the blankets and her phone, told him to leave, then shut the door.

"So, what's the plan?" Lucifer gestured. "I assume you do have a plan."

She slowly looked up. _Just get through this. One step at a time; come on Decker._ A few more seconds and she was back. She spoke as she briskly walked toward him, all business, determined to simply get it over with and not think about how close she was getting to the actual Devil. "Okay. We need to clean you up and bandage your injuries. For that we need a shower. There's a room down the hall that can accommodate you, we just have to get you there." Lucifer was listening in rapt concentration, his eyes narrowed and a slight open-mouthed pout while he tilted his head and nodded. Either he was paying close attention, or he was worried and thinking about something else.

"So, I got us a clear path to the new room: no cameras, no people. We're going to cover your wings and go."

"Like ET. Right. And how exactly do you propose we do that? They are rather noticeable, after all."

Chloe sighed, "Stand up." Lucifer complied immediately and moved away from the bed. She started by closing up what she could of the ties on his gown. His upper back, of course, was out of the question, and the loose garment didn't cover much anyway, but at least it felt slightly less awkward.

Not that she was wearing real clothes either.

Determinedly not thinking about that they were both basically naked right now; she stripped the bed.

"Okay, lie down."

"Lie down? You mean… on my-" He looked pained at the idea.

She nodded apologetically, "I know it's going to hurt. It's all I can think of."

"Detective-" Lucifer reached toward her and she jumped back like she had been stung, shaking.

"I'm sorry." She said, still gasping.

"No, no. don't be." The creature carefully retracted his hand, his face unreadable, but pitying. "I just wanted to say, I understand that you are frightened, and I know that what you saw is… difficult. Especially having to help me so soon after… after seeing it. Just know, you can take all the time away you need, do any research you feel the need to do, ask me any question, no matter how foolish or dreadful or insulting it may sound. I will not be offended, and I will answer you honestly." He paused, "In fact, let me get you started. Dante's Inferno is a political satire not a religious work, completely inaccurate and a waste of time. I do not have horns or a tail, and I do not spend my days tempting people to evil acts. Honestly, between the precinct and running Lux I don't know when I would have the time." The creature stared at her intensely, as though desperate for some encouragement. "Are you all right?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so." It was a lie, but that didn't matter right now.

The bed had wheels, though currently locked in place, for easy transfer from room to room, and the rails raised in case someone needed to be rolled off. Lucifer lay down, his wings trailing to the floor on either side, and Chloe tried to ignore his pain-filled heavy breathing as she locked the rails back into place and carefully arranged the available blankets. If she did it right, with the blankets piled up and hanging low off the side, it was possible no one remaining in the rooms en route would notice. Not perfect, but better than trying to walk him there with big obvious blobs of blanket on his back, or potentially doing enough damage to kill him by furling and unfurling his wings for the walk.

Before leaving, she sent off a quick text to Linda. If Linda knew the truth, she had a right to have some idea of what was going on.

'_Peirce is dead. Lucifer's hurt. At la met. hospital now.'_ After a few moments hesitation she sent another, _'I saw his face.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Okay. This is the last of the stuff I already had written. After this it might take a little longer. Sorry. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and favorited this story. I love you guys!

**IHaveYouTilITearIan'sValues:** Thank you so much for your reviews! What an interesting username; is it related to something? Anyway, yes, I agree. S4 ripped my heart out. Hopefully S5 will be kinder, but at least in the meantime we have fic. Enjoy! **ShelbyT:** Thank you for your review, and I am so glad you like it. This chapter has some fluff before we get back to the serious stuff. **Guest:** Is this soon enough for you? **Bird Blu: **Thanks! **CastleExtreme:** Thank you for your review. I am trying to do the idea and the show justice. **cait83:** Don't worry, I have an ending planned. And a possible sequel, but it's too soon to plan for that. Hope you like this chapter!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

The short journey was uneventful, and Chloe was pleased to find that the shower was large enough for wheelchair access with a removable shower head and chair. She needed all the space she could get. Besides that small extension the room was largely the same as the one they had left, apart from two new long red streaks from the door to the bed's stopping point. She felt bad about the blood trailing down the hall, but with Lucifer's soaked wings dragging along on the floor there wasn't much to be done.

She wasted no time removing the blankets and rails to release him and hated that once sitting up he just sat there for a few moments gasping in repressed pain, his bloody wings bunched around him protectively. Meanwhile she sent Dan a text to say the coast was clear. Everything could go back to normal except for the cameras in their current room. She also requested her clothes; she was sick of sitting around with Lucifer while she was in a hospital gown.

Chloe turned on the shower head, trying to remember what the ideal temperature was from her childhood time with Nora. The main thing she remembered from the stupid spoiled animal was her tendency to bite whenever something wasn't to her liking. The canary had been an affectionate little thing usually, but at nine years old Chloe had learned quickly what was and wasn't ideal.

She would have payed more attention if she had known her future partner would be a bird.

* * *

For his part Lucifer just sat there, staring at her adoringly. His human was such a fragile creature, but so incredibly brave and strong. He was proud of her. Few people could take his devil face as well as she had. His own reaction the first time he saw it… The angel shuddered at the memory.

He was still concerned. She had been catatonic in the ambulance after all, and even now she was avoiding looking at him. A slight touch had sent her leaping away in terror. She hadn't smiled once, not even at his joke about not tempting people because he didn't have time, specifically formulated to make her laugh. At least she seemed mostly okay with his wings.

Although that was probably just because wings weren't associated with monsters, or Hell. He felt like a liar for letting her see them.

She didn't seem unduly affected by them either. No signs of obsession, no indications that she wanted to rip them off his back and mount them on her wall just to have them close. She had just been… kind. Traumatized, clearly, but kind. Was that her true feeling toward him? Or was she just in denial about his devil face?

"Come here." Chloe motioned toward the chair in the shower, so things were ready. Good thing. He had to admit, despite his hesitation, the drying blood was making his wings itchy and irritated and the pain had not gone down at all. One would think in a hospital he could at least get some morphine, but perhaps that was the price for not getting nurses involved.

He stood up, grimacing as getting off the bed forced him to bend and stretch his wings, then hesitantly walked over and sat down.

Chloe reached out to touch a feather and this time it was his turn to pull away. The appendage reflexively jerked out of reach as her hand touched it.

"Did I hurt you?" She asked, clearly concerned that she might have accidentally touched a bullet hole.

Lucifer gave her an apologetic look, "No, no…I'm sorry. It's… it's been a very long time since anyone touched them."

Since he got to Hell, actually. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling something in an appendage after 200,000 years of it going untouched. Well, 200,000 years on Earth. Time moved slower in Hell so he supposed it was longer.

"It's okay." Chloe hesitated, for a few moments, clearly spooked, then gradually, slowly he watched her move closer again, until finally her hand once more lay at the top of his right wing. A second later it was joined by the feeling of warm water, and he let himself just relax into the blissful soothing sensation of her fingers stroking and carding through his feathers.

* * *

Chloe watched as the water ran brown to the drain while blood slowly seemed to melt from the spot she was working on. She remembered it wasn't good to fully soak feathers, but she didn't see any other way to get it all off under the circumstances. The wound site needed to be clean before she dressed it. Otherwise it might get infected.

It occurred to her that Lucifer had gone uncharacteristically silent. There hadn't been any comment, not a single cry of pain, not even an inappropriate joke about taking a shower with her. He just sat there, head down, letting her work without interruption. Chloe couldn't help staring at the very solid joins between his back and wings and shuddered as she imagined Maze sawing through layers of skin, muscle, and bone with one of her tiny daggers, cutting close enough to his back to leave the crescent-shaped scars she had seen. It must have taken forever.

Finally she decided to break the silence, "So, um, you're an angel-" The woman swallowed. The question felt risky. "-not a demon."

For the first time Lucifer shifted under her hands, as if coming out of some kind of trance. "Diving right in are we, Detective?" He paused, "Yes. I am an angel. Not sure where people got any other idea."

Okay. That had gone well. The Devil hadn't gotten angry or smited her out of existence. Emboldened, she blurted out another, more difficult and awkward, question. "What happened in Eden?" She paused, "Why would you cause original sin? What did you have to gain from ruining humanity?"

He turned to stare at her, still, silent, thinking, and Chloe drew away, fearing she had gone too far. He looked hurt. Finally, he turned back. "I fear this one is a bit complicated. And embarrassing. It requires some backstory."

Finding herself still alive, despite her racing heart, Chloe slowly returned to her work.

"There is not one cosmic being like my Dad, there are two. Humans only know of one because, well, He's the one that created them and interacts with them. But when we angels were created, Dad became Dad, and the other… She became Mum." Chloe remembered the whole weird mess with Charlotte Richards and resolved to ask about that soon. It was the one thing she hadn't been able to make sense of in her mental breakdown. Lucifer didn't lie, but there was no way he had a human stepmother.

Lucifer continued. "They loved each other, at first at least, but so many marriages fail, don't they? Their relationship began to break down, and Dad started avoiding us with a little project he called Earth. Sort of a… a cosmic model train set, if you will." He paused. "The early days, when he was just starting to set up, were boring. Dinosaurs were fun though, once he got to them, and for a little while we saw the appeal. But then they were fighting one day, and Mum destroyed them in a fit of rage, so… that was the end of that."

He went quiet, clearly remembering the incident. It was strange, listening to someone so casually talk about things like the dinosaurs getting wiped out, and once again Chloe was struck by how truly ancient the being in front of her was. Still, she thought it was time to get things back on track, "What about Eden? No snake I'm guessing."

Lucifer laughed, "No, no snake." He sighed. "Right. This is where it gets awkward. I confess, we were starting to feel somewhat neglected, between the constant arguments, and Earth, and the arguments over Earth, and I decided on something rather… drastic to try to get their attention." He paused, seemingly feeling the need to defend what was coming. "In my defense I was a foolish adolescent at the time, and it seemed like a good idea."

"What happened?"

"Well, first of all she seduced me, not the other way around."

The original story didn't mention any seduction at all, but she supposed with Lucifer involved she shouldn't have been surprised.

"Adam is…was… responsible, stultifyingly so. Though I suppose, if I'm honest, married to Eve it was bound to happen. Someone has to be the adult in every relationship, after all. She was miserable and bored, and I was willing to listen."

Chloe could almost picture the impending train wreck. She had seen it happen before, after all. Women loved Lucifer, especially the bored married ones.

"I hadn't met humans before, so I wasn't completely aware of the… effect my presence tends to have on women. And Eve was lovely, really." Lucifer suddenly sounded uncomfortable. Odd, for someone normally so casual talking about sex. "I hadn't… ever had sex before, and she was patient with me. That's a good trait in a first lover." He paused. "Anyway, a few days later I asked her what she wanted, pillow talk, you know-"

"You mean what she _desiahed?" _Chloe froze. She was feeling slightly more comfortable and the habitual teasing had just come out, unthinking. Mocking the actual Devil didn't seem like a good idea.

Lucifer just looked awkward. "Well… yes. I was curious. And that is pretty much the end of the story on your end. Eve said she wanted to see what would happen if she ate from that tree over there, and I said go for it. I had come to Earth to break something, after all, and at the time I thought of humans as little more than ants. I… confess I cared little what happened to them." He looked at her, one hand raised, as though concerned about her possible response to that comment, "Don't worry, I know better now." He sighed, "Then there was a fight, I rebelled, no one joined me, and Dad kicked me to Hell. And that's the whole truth. I was a fool, but it wasn't about you humans. Not really. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Chloe was silent, digesting the information. It was strange, being apologized to as a representative of the human race. Religious leaders had spent eons arguing over the information that she had just been given freely. However, somehow, she didn't doubt him.

His right wing was slowly changing color under her ministrations. She studied the feather she was holding, mostly white now, though dyed a slight pinkish tinge. They were beautiful. Whereas his face had radiated pain and fear, the wings radiated light and calm. Just being near them made her feel a little more steady, safe and loved. By whom she did not know, but loved nonetheless. She hated seeing the damaged feathers, hated watching him wince every time she came across yet another bullet wound.

For a second she considered asking about the Face, but couldn't get the words out. Eden was one thing, 'Hey, why did you turn into a terrifying monster while crouching over the body of my ex-fiancée?' was quite another. He didn't seem likely to smite her, but she didn't feel like pressing her luck.

"Detective?" Lucifer was quiet, "Charlotte's in Heaven. I just thought you might like to know. Amenadiel took her there himself."

Chloe stared. Finally, she opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Concerned by what it could mean, she excused herself to answer it.

"Dan. Hey."

The man seemed to be getting agitated and impatient, but at least he handed her her real clothes. "Chloe, what's going on? Can they see him yet? The doctors want to do x-rays."

"NO!" Chloe paused. That had come out much too urgent. "He'll be fine. Everything is fine."

No one could see him, and they definitely couldn't do x-rays or other tests. If they did it was a quick slippery slope to Lucifer being locked up in a facility somewhere, being studied and experimented on in a cage. Denied his freedom, his expensive alcohol, his lavish lifestyle, suits, money, people, piano… if anything could kill him, that would be it. She still didn't know what she was going to decide about their relationship, but that could not be allowed.

Dan leaned forward conspiratorially, "He bled all over the hallway, Chloe. There's blood on the walls and floor in his old room. They're getting concerned. What if it's too much? He might need a transfusion."

_What was the Devil's blood type? Did angels have a different genetic code?_ This awful new world was bringing up weird questions. She just wanted to go back to two days ago, when everything was okay and the supernatural didn't exist. She really wasn't ready for the supernatural to exist.

"He's fine, I promise. Everything is going really well now that I have what I need, and he should actually be checking out fairly soon." Her voice turned pleading, "Just stall them a little longer. That's all I'm asking. Please, Dan."

Eventually he sighed, "Fine. Have it your way. I thought we were done with all this sneaking around now that Pierce is dead but… I guess not." Finally he walked off, clearly annoyed, and she returned to the room and pulled the shower curtains so she could change. "Stay." She said to Lucifer, out of habit. Then, deciding that was a bit demanding, and therefore risky, she added a worried, "Please?"

"When have I ever not?"

* * *

While dressing Chloe thought of another question. One that seemed better than asking about Charlotte immediately. After all, she thought, he was so forthcoming and understanding about Eden, perhaps it would be better (and nicer) to space out the difficult questions. And he did say he would answer 'Any question.'

'Foolish' question it was then. "Hey, do angels molt?" she called in the general direction of the curtain. At the ensuing silence she kept talking. "It's just, you know, it might be good to know. And I don't want to risk breaking a blood feather or something with all this."

Silence. As Chloe strained to hear she finally got a response, "Gosh, I hadn't thought about that in ages. Yes, we do sometimes replace our feathers. You needn't worry though, Detective, I've only had my wings back a year, I'm not due yet."

That raised another question, "So when did you get them back? And how did they grow? Did you just have, I don't know, tiny child-size wings for a while?"

That elicited a chuckle. "You certainly do have an active imagination. You sound like Linda. No. I just woke up with them fully formed after Peirce kidnapped me. You know, when he dumped me in the desert and no one noticed."

She sensed an accusation in there somewhere, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Instead of addressing it she returned to work and started on the next wing.

He continued speaking, arching his left wing to press it into her touch. "You know, despite the unfortunate mess, this might actually be good for me. The last time I went to the doctor he did say I ought to get bled, after all. Balance my humors and all that."

That frankly weird statement got her attention. "Wait, what?" She paused. "When did you last go to the doctor?"

"1651," he replied matter-a-factly. "It was part of a deal; don't ask. Can you believe he said I have an excess of yellow bile? Me?"

That meant absolutely nothing to her, and the scientific inaccuracy of the whole thing physically hurt. "Hmm." She said, honestly unsure what to say in response to any of that.

"I mean, honestly." Annoyance at some anonymous medieval doctor turned to concern and he shifted around to stare at her, "When did you last get bled, Detective? I have heard it's important for humans."

Finally she found something to say, "Um, never, because the entire idea of humors is garbage."

Lucifer grinned, "Good for you, Detective. Question everything."

One would have thought _she_ was the one spouting an insane medical theory no one had believed in in 300 years. Even as an immortal, injured, possibly dangerous being, he still had the ability to make her want to bang her head against a wall.

Nice to know some things didn't change.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thank you so much to all my readers.

A quick question: This story is nearing its end, probably in the next couple of chapters. Would anyone like me to continue through the season 4 time frame? I have a plot laid out for that, just wanted to get your opinions.

**Guest:** Thanks! Have a chapter! **gummylick: **Shhh… Spoilers… In all seriousness, don't worry, it will happen soon. **ShelbyT:** Haha! Yeah. Lucifer is like the embodiment of that meme about an immortal who wasn't paying attention. You know: "What was the French Revolution like?" "I don't know, I was in Germany." He doesn't exactly come to Earth to learn science, he just picks up local ideas here and there when he hears them, so some of his information is woefully out of date. Remember the 14th century medical text he had, and that he and Amenadiel seem to know nothing about their own biology. Angel school is not a thing and it shows.

Things they didn't know about themselves:  
Angels' mental health affects them physically  
You can't stick old dead amputated appendages back on your body years later (I feel like this should be a logical given)  
Angels' healing factor extends to regrowing body parts  
Angels pretty much have free will  
Pretty much all the rules about not interacting with humans were invented by the angels themselves and not God at all  
God doesn't punish anybody. Doom and redemption is up to the individual  
Angels can lose their powers and when that happens they can produce nephilim  
And I will repeat, _Angels' mental health affects them physically_

Anyway, I'm really glad you're enjoying. Read on!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Mazikeen of the Lillim practically roared as she walked into the hospital.

For her part, Linda was starting to regret the speed with which she had gotten here. Her phone had died earlier, and it had been alarming to turn it on and discover four calls from Lucifer and That text. There were also two prior calls from Maze, but considering Peirce's threats she figured she could ignore those.

Every single part of Chloe's text was terrifying. _Pierce is dead._ How? Who killed him? Who had control of the Sinnerman Network? Were they still in danger? _Lucifer's hurt._ If Lucifer was injured, that meant Chloe had been nearby. Which meant she had probably been under threat. Which meant Lucifer had almost definitely seen red. And that brought her back to Who Killed Pierce.

From there it went from bad to worse. _At la met. hospital now. _Lucifer…in a hospital. Not only was there the likelihood of discovery, it must have been really bad for him to let anyone take him there. How badly was he injured?

_I saw his face. _That was terrifying for several reasons, each uniquely awful. Lucifer had his devil face back, just when he was starting to get over his obsession with it and actually improve. It being back also meant his depression had taken a turn for the worse. He thought of himself as a monster again.

Oh well. She was used to this with Lucifer. Three steps forward, two and a half steps back. They could work with this. At least he was past the self-harm. She didn't think she could take seeing him hurt or mutilate himself again.

_I saw his face._ Linda's heart had sank reading those four words. She knew how much that must have hurt him. His fear of Chloe's reaction was the one reason he hadn't told her yet, and Linda worried he might shut down completely if his vulnerability was met with rejection.

On the other hand, maybe it would have been better if they had gotten here slower and Maze had had more time to cool down. The demon was storming around, yelling "WHERE THE HELL IS LUCIFER?" at random staff who definitely couldn't answer her.

Linda got in her way as she accosted a janitor. "Maze. Maze. Come on. He doesn't know." She pointed at the desk. "Let's go to the front desk. They can tell us where he is. Come on. Maze." Demons were not dissimilar to dogs. If one could just redirect their attention they would forget about what they were currently doing.

Accordingly Maze clomped over to the desk and leaned over it. "WHERE IS HE?" Linda felt a little sorry for the desk clerk. The demon was wild, still in an adrenaline-soaked, violence-addicted fury after her escape from Peirce's men earlier. She did not look like someone to be crossed.

The woman at the desk was middle aged, black, and somewhat portly, wearing pink scrubs. And to Linda's surprise she didn't turn a hair at the whirlwind across from her. In fact she barely looked up from her computer to ask the first question. "Who are you here to see?"

"Take a guess!"

The woman finally looked up, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I'm gonna need you to calm down and give me some information. Now, who are you here to see?"

Linda watched the interaction with bated breath, waiting to see what the demon would do.

Maze just stared, seemingly uncertain what to do when a human simply didn't have a reaction. Finally she appeared to see that throwing her weight around would get her nowhere. She straightened and answered. "Lucifer Morningstar."

Typing. "Friend or family?"

"His bodyguard." Maze answered solemnly. It seemed that no matter what, some things didn't change. That was her identity, come Hell or high water, even if she was actively trying to kill her charge.

Linda jumped in with an awkward chuckle, "Friend. Definitely friend. We both are."

She had expected at least an odd look for Maze's comment, but instead the clerk just kept typing.

"Well?!" Maze finally asked impatiently.

The clerk turned back to them, though it clearly bore no relation to the outburst. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morningstar isn't currently cleared for visitors. If you would just have a seat-"

"LISTEN HERE YOU WASHED UP HUMAN! I did NOT run over here in RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC just to be told I'm not allowed to see him. So, you can either TELL ME WHERE THAT MORON IS or I can rip that monitor from your hands and feed it to you." Maze looked satisfied, confident that she had made her point.

The clerk did not look impressed. "Sit." She said, pointing at the chairs.

This felt like a good time to get involved, "Maze… Easy… what have we talked about? Violence is not the answer." Linda carefully herded Maze in the general direction of the waiting area. She could swear the leather-clad woman was actually growling.

Once things seemed slightly more under control, she sent a quick text to Chloe. If anyone was in control here or knew what was going on it was her.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Linda was running low on magazines when she heard a short laugh to her left. Evidently Maze was taking a break from her rage, smiling and laughing, her long legs draped over the next seat. She noticed Linda looking and spoke.

"I can't believe Decker knows now. I have so many embarrassing stories. This is going to be amazing." She paused. "I mean, I promised Lucifer I'd never tell anyone about any of them but, hey, he shouldn't have pissed me off."

Dan walked up before Linda could discreetly suggest that she not do that, interrupting the conversation. He radiated irritation and grief, and the bags under his eyes spoke of how little sleep he had gotten in the past days. "Hey. So, I take it you guys heard about Lucifer."

The pair looked up hopefully. The man didn't seem to notice and instead continued rambling, "Do either of you know what the hell is going on? Chloe won't tell me anything. And of course Lucifer is soaking up attention like his life depends on it. Refusing help, demanding special treatment… I don't understand how that _bastard_ can make everything about himself when Charlotte-" He stopped, clearing his throat.

"Dan? Are you okay?" Linda stood up, walking over to put her hand on his arm. They didn't know each other well, but the poor man seemed to be in so much pain.

At her touch Dan fell apart. Tears started running down his cheeks as he sobbed silently. "She's- Charlotte's dead and no one even seems to care. They fake sympathy but they don't…" The man grabbed onto Linda and sobbed, while Maze rolled her eyes in the background.

"Your girlfriend's in Heaven, Dan. She's fine. Now, chop chop. Where's Lucifer?"

Linda pointedly ignored her, instead focusing on comforting the quivering pile of grief that desperately needed her help. Finally he forced out a few words, "Um, room 316. Chloe sent me down to get you guys."

* * *

Once in the room, Linda surveyed the scene. The bed had been turned sideways against the wall and one of the chairs moved to the center of the room for additional space. Lucifer was sitting in it, his wings wet and dripping, though clearly badly damaged, and both Lucifer and Chloe were attempting to dry them with a couple of hair dryers. He seemed alert and healthy though, which was a relief.

Maze walked around her, gesturing with a Hell blade Linda hadn't realized she had. "Hey! You! You have some explaining to do!" Both of the room's occupants looked up, suddenly tense. The angel looked like a deer in headlights, which would have been adorable had Maze not been holding a knife that could definitely kill him.

"Did you kill a freaking human?!"

Linda took this opportunity to grab Chloe and make a discreet exit. The poor woman doubtless needed support after what she had seen, and the immortals could hash this out between themselves.

She heard Maze's rant continue as they walked down the hall. "You refuse to take me back home, and now you're going to wreck Earth for me too. If your Dad destroys this planet because of your stupidity I'm kicking your ass!"

Chloe still looked dazed and terrified, and Linda didn't blame her. She herself had just sat staring at the same spot on the wall for twelve hours after she saw his devil face, then locked herself in her office for a week. By that reckoning, Chloe was doing pretty well.

They were almost to the bathroom when Chloe stopped. "I should go back. He- he needs…"

Linda took her hands in hers. "Chloe, Lucifer is fine. He's been dealing with Maze all her life, he knows how to handle her. We're just… giving them some privacy." Linda ushered Chloe into the bathroom before she could protest.

"Don't worry. I'm here for you." She paused, pulling a water bottle out of her purse and handing it over. "Here, drink."

Chloe sat down against the wall, did as instructed, and immediately choked, "Oh my God, that's Vodka!"

"Oh, yeah." She grabbed a bottle for herself, actually water this time, though she wouldn't tell Chloe that. She hadn't been feeling well lately and didn't want to upset her stomach. "Believe me, alcohol works wonders with this stuff." She paused. "You don't have to drink a lot. It was just easier to sneak it in in that bottle."

Chloe took a few more sips, slowly feeling her nerves relax to a more functioning level. She needed to get back, and not to help with Maze. Tape wouldn't adhere to wet feathers or skin, so Lucifer's wings had to be dried, then she still needed to deal with actually disinfecting and dressing the whole thing. On the other hand, there was an actual demon on the warpath in there (It turned out that yes, knowing she was a demon did in fact make Maze even scarier), and she currently had Linda alone. More specifically, she had Lucifer's therapist alone, the one human who could be relied upon to have a firm, unbiased grasp of the facts. Of course there were confidentiality issues, but she would try to be careful of that. "So," she began, "You know… what he is."

"Yes. It was…. Quite a shock."

"Have… you seen…"

Linda nodded, somber. "Yeah."

She wasn't sure if she would get an answer to her next question, but she preferred asking Linda to asking the Devil himself. Chloe hesitated, trying to think of the best phrasing. "His… face… what was that?" Linda was silent, so she continued, "I mean, is… that… what he actually is? Underneath? I wouldn't expect an angel to look… like that." She paused, "He is an angel, right? I mean, he didn't look like one. He looked-"

"Like a devil." Linda's face was filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry. Legally, I can't tell you much. Have you asked him about this?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. I can't." Her heart sped up with fear at the mere idea. "He said he would tell me anything I needed to know, but I… just can't."

"You need too."

Silence. "Is he dangerous? I understand if you can't answer but you'd tell me, right? If he had some plot against Earth? If he was… trying to damn us all?"

"Lucifer? Dangerous?" The older woman actually laughed. "Sorry. No, no he's not dangerous. Earth is safe, and he doesn't care about _damning_ anyone." Linda sighed. "Chloe," she said, making her way to sit beside the other woman. "I know this is hard. I mean, this is _really_, _really_ hard. And I know you hoped that I would be more help. But I'll tell you what I can.

Lucifer would die sooner than see you hurt. He may seem like he doesn't give a damn, but he _really_ cares about you. He is not dangerous. He's… lost, and looking for answers, but not dangerous. And you've done him a lot of good. I don't mean in a dumb, 'fix your man' kind of way, you… give him a goal. A healthy outlet. He values your opinion and likes being in your company. I'm serious. He has made so much progress since working with you, it's amazing." She paused, "Okay, I don't think it violates anything to tell you that his devil face isn't anything getting out. He's not covering up some full 'devil form' or anything, it's just a mask. A really scary, alarming, utterly terrifying mask. …Seriously, if you have any questions, ask him."

They were both silent, sitting and drinking. Okay. That was clearly as far as she was going to get with Linda, at least on serious topics.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mazikeen was seriously starting to wish she had a different king, lord, and master. One less… self-destructive.

"Listen to me, Lucifer. If you need a human dead, you don't do it yourself. Kidnap him, bring him to me, and _**I**_ will do the stabbing."

Lucifer was still holding the hair dryer, one wing bent around him for better access, as if she was a secondary issue that did not require his full attention. "There wasn't time for that, Maze. It was him or me." His tone conveyed annoyance, and she contemplated ripping that infernal device from his hand until he turned to look at her. "Come to think of it, he had one of your Hell blades. Now how did he come to have that?"

Mazikeen had spent her entire life reading his moods, and Lucifer hadn't just 'come to think of it.' She was sure he had been thinking of it for some time. His tone had shifted, from annoyance to sly underhanded accusation. Then it hardened. "Did you give it to him?"

"No." The demon, previously full of rage and fury, suddenly sounded meek, and an outside observer might have been confused by the change. "No I… I'm not working with him anymore."

"Then why did he have it, Maze?"

"I DON'T KNOW! Maybe it… maybe it got left when I escaped. Dammit!" She paused, shifting uncomfortably under Lucifer's extended stare. Her King required explanation. "I might have… gone to confront Cain at his hideout. We fought, he drugged me, and when I woke up I was chained to the wall, guarded by a dozen men. He must have taken it then."

Lucifer nodded, lounging regally back in his chair, the shining white wings she so rarely saw swept beside him on either side. "It is unfortunate, but I suppose it can be overlooked." He paused, "I will see that the blade is returned to you."

She did not thank him; it was not required. He had made a decision and that was that. Things would go back to normal now.

"So… how'd Decker take your face? I heard she saw it."

The hair dryer was back on, once more grating on her nerves. "I think she…" He sighed. "I don't know. I think she _will_ be all right eventually." Lucifer looked defensive. "Well, The Detective likes things like science and reason. She likes the world to make sense and she's been an atheist for years. It is rather a lot to ask her to just… accept all this."

The demon rolled her eyes, all veneration gone with the moment.

The angel didn't seem to notice. "Cain's men shot me though, and she's been helping, so at least there's some hope. There will be plenty of time to answer all her questions while I'm laid up."

Oh no. No. Maze could not allow him to make such a stupid decision. "You do realize, it will take months for you to heal with Decker hanging around."

The love-struck idiot actually grinned. "Do you think she would?"

It was just… pathetic. The King of Hell, eager to sit around vulnerable and in pain for weeks longer than necessary, just for a slight chance for some (doubtless sexless) extra time with his dumb pet human. Right now he was probably daydreaming about playing monopoly or watching tv with her or some crap.

She would say it again. Pathetic.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thanks for reading, and for the follows, favs, and reviews. I love you guys!

This is the last chapter of this part of the story. I am regarding the second part as a sequel, but will be posting it as a continuation of the same story. I just don't want to make anyone try to find another story they haven't followed to keep reading. So, next time begins the S4 storyline! (I still don't know if I will skip the full month though) Stay tuned!

**Guest:** Thanks! I will. **MidnightWriter44678:** Thank you so much. Seriously, being told my characters feel in character and are well written really means a lot to me. I look forward to showing you what I have planned! **Cathy Sullins:** Thank you. I appreciate it. **mackiechandler: **Haha! Yeah, I love Maze, and she is a fun character to write. I feel like you would have to wave a gun in that receptionist's face to even get a response, and she would just grab it from your hand and tell you to simmer down. She sees way too much nonsense and gets paid way too little to care about some demon throwing a tantrum. (Side rant. Sorry) Ironically, of course, this is the way Lucifer always handles Maze, and what he has told others when asked. The problem Linda, Amenadiel, and Chloe run into is that they are really nice people who want everyone to be happy. Maze throws a tantrum and their response is "Oh no. What's wrong?" when it should be "Sit down. Shut up. Amenadiel and Linda being together is none of your business." (At least in that specific case). It's like when she was framed and everyone was concerned and worried while Lucifer just sat there "Yeah, sure, let her go to prison. Life sentence? Who cares. Maybe she'll learn not to pull this garbage." Sorry, small rant. It's sad to watch various characters let her walk all over them because they're concerned about her feelings. I love Maze, but she is deeply flawed and extremely selfish. Anyway, rant over. Thanks for your review, and I hope you enjoy things going forward. **SandorthienLiza:** Yay! Read on! ** IHaveYouTilITearIan'sValues:** Ah, yes, I see it now. Excellent username. I like the wordplay. As for my plans, I have every intention of continuing this through season 4, though the storyline will be very different. **FLDawg:** That means a lot. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this closing chapter of Part I of this fic.

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

Trigger warning for brief discussion of suicide. It's short, the attempt was unsuccessful, and the information given is not particularly detailed, but I am increasing the rating on this to "T." Not sure its "K+" anyway with all the language.

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

Several hours later everything was finally finished. Maze had already disappeared when Chloe returned to the room, and Linda left after a brief conversation to remind Lucifer that she was available if he needed to talk about anything. Still, his wounds were finally dressed. Chloe had done her best to allow movement, using patches on each hole rather than wrapping them. After all, he still had to get home from the hospital, and there was no way to do that without furling the wings.

Both she and Dan had a few weeks off; she for being shot, Dan for losing his girlfriend. He tried to insist that he didn't need it but Chloe urged him to take a break. After all that he had been through, he needed time off to rest and come to terms with everything. Also, she pointed out, he hadn't spent proper time with Trixie in ages, so this would allow him to do that.

"Maybe I'll take a trip." He finally said. "Yellowstone's nice. I could take Trixie, get in some father-daughter bonding… camp, hike, see some sights."

Chloe nodded. "Okay. That sounds like a good idea." She grabbed his hand as he started to walk away. "Dan, I am so sorry about Charlotte. If you ever need to talk… if you need anything-"

"Yeah." He didn't sound like he believed her. Instead he bitterly ripped his hand away and walked off.

At least that simplified things. Lucifer was going to need help, regardless of how much he might insist he was 'fine.' If nothing else, he couldn't reach his own back to change his bandages, and with his wings out while he healed he would be trapped in the penthouse, unable to run his own errands. She had considered just staying at Lux to help, but Trixie was an issue. Chloe didn't want her to discover the truth and under the circumstances, it would be inevitable. Thankfully, Dan's idea would take care of that.

So, she filled Lucifer in on the plan and went home to pack a bag. There were still some things to be done before he could leave, after all: paperwork, collecting his belongings, etc. She would meet him back over at the hospital before going to Lux.

* * *

It was evening when Chloe finally walked into her apartment, empty, since Trixie was at a friend's house. It wasn't quite night yet, but the low sun stretched and distorted the shadows until what little light was left only served to make everything more obscured and sinister than it would have been in full dark. Normally that wouldn't have bothered her, but after the day she had had, she was still a little spooked.

Chloe turned on the light in the den and nearly jumped out of her skin. Maze was sitting in the corner, a feral look in her eyes, motionless in the rocker, as if trying to freak her out. She was also grinning.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

The demon shrugged. "Dunno. I thought you'd be home before now." She jumped up and walked over, "But, since you're here, and you…know-" She leaned on the island, "Let's talk. I have stories I've been waiting _years_ to tell you."

Chloe _really_ wished she wasn't on such a time crunch. Maze knew more about Lucifer than anyone, and had no filter or concept of discretion. If she pumped Maze for information, she could probably get Lucifer's entire life story, and through it real clarity on his nature. Unfortunately, traffic was bad, and she desperately needed to get the angel out of the hospital before some nurse or tech saw something. Talking to Maze would have to wait. "I'm sorry Maze, I just came here to grab an overnight bag."

To emphasize her point Chloe walked off toward her bedroom and started packing. Maze followed.

"Have I ever told you about the time Lucifer forgot knives are sharp?" The demon's eyes were practically gleaming as she started to laugh.

Chloe's face twisted in confusion, "What?"

Maze kept laughing, barely able to speak around it. "Oh my God! This one is good. Okay, okay. So." She paused, calming herself, clearly wanting to do the story justice. Then she began,

"It was a long time ago, the first time that I met him, actually. I was just a newborn at the time, newly forged, even smaller than your offspring. You know," She said, seemingly as explanation, "they didn't really have a lot of notice he was coming, so there wasn't exactly time to grow me out and train me before I started my service."

_Naturally_. Chloe thought sarcastically, grabbing some toiletries and stuffing them in. She could always come back if she left something behind.

"Anyway, I got up to his apartments and-" Maze was suddenly struck again with paroxysms of laughter, "He had slashed his wrists with a Hell-forged blade!" More laughter, "I mean, he almost died! He was just sitting there alone in the dark, shaking, covered in blood, just saying over and over, 'Is it gone?' 'Tell me it's gone!'"

The silly, mocking voice Maze was doing for his dialogue wasn't helping the story. Chloe had a sneaking and very sad suspicion that she knew what had happened. Her thoughts of pumping Maze for information were forgotten; this was private and she felt awful for hearing it.

"I mean, come on, who does that? I know they're soft up there but seriously! Even a baby realizes knives don't go near exposed veins. Not only that, there was glass everywhere. The clumsy oaf broke a mirror." She sighed, "That was the day I realized keeping Lucifer alive wouldn't be as easy as I thought."

Yep. Her awful suspicion was becoming an increasing certainty. Lucifer had tried to kill himself the first time he saw it. She felt sick… and guilty for not considering that as awful as it was to see that… 'devil face,' as Linda had called it, it would be unthinkable to look in the mirror and see it staring back at you. She hadn't even asked him how he was doing. She wasn't even injured and Lucifer had repeatedly asked if she was all right.

The demon was still studying her, waiting for her to laugh. "Embarrassing right?"

"Yeah, embarrassing." She said, still straightfaced, unable to even fake amusement at the horrifying tale. Chloe stuffed a few more things into her bag and made for the door, fear of the Devil all but forgotten. She needed to go give Lucifer a hug.

Maze caught her before she could escape, "Hey," She said, smiling softly, "so, when can I see Trixie?"

Chloe felt panicked at the idea of Maze with her daughter. A demon wanted to watch her daughter. Thank goodness she had an excuse. "Um, Maze, I'm sorry. It isn't your fault, but she still isn't completely over those things you said. And besides, Dan's taking her on a trip, so she won't be around for a while."

The "woman" nodded, suddenly subdued. "I understand."

"I'm sorry, Maze. Maybe another time."

"Yeah. Maybe."

* * *

Lucifer looked up from his seat back on the bed and his eyes lit up as Chloe walked into the doorway, smiling slightly. "Hey," She said, with no trace of fear. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes were warm and loving. She was smiling. He couldn't believe it. He had started to worry that he had truly broken her, that she would never smile again. And here she was, beautiful and safe… and maybe even okay with him. It was more than he could have possibly prayed for.

'_Thank you.'_ He quickly sent up. He didn't pray often, it always felt like surrender somehow, but the Detective's wellbeing was more important than that. It always had been.

He returned her warm smile, "I'm fine."

She motioned toward him, already dressed in his ruined suit with his wings hidden. "You furled your wings."

"I did." It had seemed easier and less likely to result in injury to do it while she was gone. He couldn't get dressed with his wings out anyway.

To his disappointment the smile disappeared, replaced with concern and worry. As she walked further into the room her hands fidgeted together nervously and he wanted to go over and take them, calm her, comfort her and let her know that she would never have to see anything so horrible as his devil face ever again. He would do anything: jokes, kisses, genuine conversation, talking to Dad, _anything_, if it could only assure him that that smile would never leave again.

"Lucifer, you know you can talk to me, right?" She said, making her way across the room and sitting beside him. Her fingers slipped into his palm and instinctively he tightened his hand around them. "You're not alone. Not ever."

"I know." It was true. There had been a time when the only two people he had were Maze, his grudging bodyguard, and Amenadiel, his self-appointed jailer. Neither had really liked him much. Sure, there were billions of demons who feared and respected his rule, and plenty of humans happy to warm his bed, but none of them could be called 'friends.'

Things were different now. Maze was…well, not his friend exactly but their relationship was different, Amenadiel was truly his brother; he had Linda and Ella and Dan (sometimes) and so many others. Sometimes he still felt horribly alone, utterly unable to silence the accusing, hateful voices on what Linda called 'bad days,' but he was so amazingly blessed. Most of all, he had the incredible woman in front of him, brilliant and beautiful, who had stood by him despite all that their partnership had put her through.

"Lucifer… there's something I have to ask. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Chloe appeared to be gearing herself up for something. She still seemed nervous and a little frightened by the prospect, but he didn't think the fear was of him. She stopped for a few moments, then finally found her courage. "In the atrium, when you… killed Peirce… Your face…"

She trailed off, her breath shaky, as if still petrified by the memory. "What was that?"

He considered saying 'it doesn't matter, you will never see it again,' but didn't. He had been able to tell bloody _Cain_ of all people; he could certainly tell Chloe. Besides, he had promised to be honest.

"I don't know. Amenadiel had a theory, and considering that he is in Heaven right now I suppose it must be correct." He paused, avoiding her gaze. "He thought that perhaps our mental state affects us physically. You know, he lost all confidence after causing Malcolm, thought himself unworthy of his wings and his powers, so then he lost them."

Chloe looked confused, "Wait. How did Amenadiel 'cause Malcolm?'"

Oh, right. He should have remembered that she didn't know about that. He sighed. "Malcolm didn't live through his coma. Humans send themselves to Hell, you see, dragged down by guilt and shame. When they pulled the plug he went to Hell. Amenadiel resurrected him."

"Why?"

"Well, to kill me." Lucifer looked up, taking in her concerned, confused face. He hadn't really expected his devil face confession to get sidetracked, but they could get back to it after this. "I refused to go back to Hell, much to my self-appointed jailer's discontent, but I made the mistake of informing him of my new mortality. Amenadiel realized that all he needed to do was kill me, and I would go back to Hell, trapped as I would be dead, tortured or torturing, forever." He paused, letting the information sink in, then continued. "So, my brother raised the damned soul of our corrupt cop and threatened to send him back to Hell if he didn't kill me. Thankfully, I was able to buy the man off, but Malcolm was insane. He started killing people… in my name, then framed me and attempted to flee the country when I rejected his efforts." The story ended, at last. That last part had been difficult.

Finally he was back to the original topic. "Anyway, Amenadiel accidentally caused a serial killer, and lost his wings and power not long after that."

Chloe was silent, still digesting the new information. "And your face?"

"It was there when I got to Hell. Everyone hated me after I rebelled, including myself, I now realize, and… well… I was a monster. I _am_ a monster." He finished quietly. "It's been gone a year, ever since my wings grew back, but… after I… killed Peirce it…"

'_You killed a __**HUMAN**__!' _The voice blared in his head.

Chloe's arms wrapped around him, pulling him forward, quieting the tears threatening on the edge of his voice. The full enormity of what he had done was finally hitting him.

"I… I killed him. I stood over him as he died and convinced him he deserved Hell. There is a man, in Hell, because _I_ put him there."

"Shh. Shh. It's okay." She whispered, in a tone that he imagined worked very well on Trixie. At least her gentle touch on his back didn't hurt too much; the swelling had healed while she was away from the hospital. With the blood gone from the sheaths in his back he had finally been able to furl his wings without immersing them in blood and ruining all of her hard work.

Chloe's voice sounded in his ear, "Let's go home."

* * *

The journey to Lux was quiet. Chloe drove and glanced over at her partner occasionally, but his eyes were glued to the window, clearly still distressed after his admission about Peirce.

She wasn't sure what to think. His reaction to Peirce's death was that of a person who hadn't killed anyone before, but there was no way that could be true. Regardless of any myths, the man beside her was billions of years old and made enemies as easily as friends; it didn't seem statistically possible that this was the first time he had killed. Still, she was worried about him. From everything he and Maze had said, the devil face was a big issue, an illness that he had weaponized.

Maybe she could get Linda to talk to her a little more, at least about the things she already knew.

At her insistence, they went up the private elevator entrance, in a basement garage below Lux. One had to use a key to access it from any other story and Chloe refrained from pointing out that it was more security than he had on his penthouse. The important thing right now was to avoid the crowds.

To her surprise he didn't follow her out of the elevator once it reached the top. "You're not coming?"

"Sorry, Detective. I haven't been home in a while. I'm just popping down to see how things are getting on, but I'll be back." He must have noticed the disappointment on her face, because he continued. "Feel free to make yourself at home; guest room is that way… never mind, there isn't one. Well the couch pulls out, at least. Order us some dinner, why don't you; I think we're both too tired to cook. I'll be back in no time."

It was so easy to forget that he had a job outside the precinct, that they were his hobby, not his profession. "What do you want?"

Lucifer smiled, "You have good taste. Surprise me."

* * *

It only took a few minutes to order some Chinese, then she was pretty much at loose ends. It was strange, being here, surrounded by all his possessions and artifacts, knowing the truth. Chloe had always thought Lucifer found things at auctions, that his tales about their origins were just the items' history mixed with elaborate metaphor. It was strange to look at a statue of a horse that he claimed had been a gift from Napoleon and know that it_ actually was_ a gift from Napoleon.

Innocent touring quickly turned to slightly not-so-innocent snooping. Lucifer had been gone for longer than she expected, which both emboldened her and made the whole thing more nerve-wracking. The drink she had had at the hospital probably didn't help.

_Who was the Devil, really?_

The sock drawer she and Linda had once thought of exploring, as it turned out was void of interest. Some were black and some were patterned, but a grid of perfectly matched and arranged pairs hid nothing underneath, not even a titillating magazine. There was a copy of Hot Tub High School next to the TV, but while she rolled her eyes on principle, it was hardly surprising. It was his declared 'favorite movie,' after all. His desk was elsewhere, which she supposed made since. Lucifer did run a business in this building; there must be employee offices somewhere.

Somehow, she wound up in his closet, a place that she realized she had never been. Like the rest of the penthouse every surface gleamed with hardwood and marble and Chloe reflected that she hadn't even known it was possible for a closet to ooze wealth and opulence to this degree. Once again, the contents were largely unsurprising: perfectly arranged and pressed suits hung above perfectly racked shoes. Even with his penchant for often filthy crime scenes and wild parties, not a speck of dirt was to be seen. Ever the fastidious dandy.

She suddenly spotted a small wooden box, sitting on a high shelf and her curiosity was piqued. Against her better judgement Chloe reached up to grab it.

Sitting inside was a large pocketwatch, heavy and clearly gold. The front was richly engraved with a woodland scene, a group of Renaissance-era hunters riding out after a stag. The lead man blew a hunting horn while dogs yapped at their feet, eager to get after their quarry. The thing was clearly wind-up and looked ancient. Turning it over she saw more decoration, filigree engraving around the edge this time, and an inscription:

_Merci_

_Pour l'homme qui m'a montré la verité_

Chloe wished she could read French. Regardless, she quickly took a picture to translate it later, before springing the top open to see inside.

The clockface consisted of concentric circles of mother of pearl and engraved gold, though it was currently unwound, and the hands were still. She couldn't help thinking that the rich decoration on this piece might have been thought gaudy or tacky in any other setting, but here it was incredibly beautiful, an extravagant masterpiece that looked like it belonged in a museum. When she looked up at the other side, reverse of the top, however, it stood in stark simple contrast to the rest of the ornate item. Glass protected what looked like a pencil or charcoal sketch of a sensitive, sweet-looking young man, beardless with long curls to his shoulders, simply dressed in an oddly loose old-fashioned white shirt that was untied and left hanging open at the neck. He was strikingly handsome with large eyes that seemed to stare out at the viewer, even from the small uncolored sketch. Ringed around the edge of the portrait was a thin complicated braid of golden hair. Human hair.

Chloe suddenly felt extremely uneasy, a sinking feeling in her middle that this was something deeply personal that she _should not_ be looking at. She heard the elevator ding and quickly returned the watch to its place to escape to the common room.

She really hoped that she didn't look as awkward as she felt.

Lucifer walked in carrying a paper bag, "Look what was delivered downstairs!" He held it up demonstrably as he walked to the kitchenette, that ridiculous Cheshire cat grin of his plastered across his face.

"All right, lets see what you ordered." He quickly distributed the bag's contents, narrating softly as he went. "Alright, let's see. Egg rolls… rice… Ooh, well that's your favorite, clearly yours…"

"Lucifer."

"Hm?" He asked as he poured them a couple of glasses, some strong alcohol that likely cost more than her rent.

"I'm sorry. We need to check your bandages before we do anything else. There's a chance they might have gotten messed up in the move." His face had fallen at her reminder, and she couldn't help remembering his agonized screams trying to get them out before. She hated to do that to him again, but it was important that it all be dressed properly, and this would be the last time. He could just keep them out while he healed, for easier access, bandaging, and monitoring. They had even discussed this plan at the hospital, before she left for her apartment.

Lucifer swallowed, and Chloe sadly realized that he had been stalling. "Right. Let me just…" He walked over to a discreet cabinet under the bar, rummaging through it for something before holding up an old glass bottle, more medicinal than alcoholic in shape. "Something to dull the pain." He gave her a weird little toast before raising it to his lips and taking a large gulp. "Okay. That should do it."

He walked away, toward the middle of the room where he would have more space, stripping off his suit jacket as he went. Chloe reached across the bar to read the label.

Laudanum. Of course. He _would_ take illegal drugs with no concern for dosage while he had a cop in his apartment. Concerned, she did some quick googling.

"Lucifer!" She called, "You do realize the dosage for this is measured in _drops_, right?" She could only hope he didn't overdose and send them back to the hospital.

"Not for me," He said, and she was reminded once again that he wasn't human and likely had different chemical requirements. Lucifer paused, bracing himself. "Okay."

The wings burst out as unexpectedly as before, this time with only a short cry of agony and some soft gasping. It was better than last time, but still horrible to watch. He immediately rushed over to the bar, downing the drink that he had already poured and getting himself another.

Chloe could see his hands shaking with pain. Carefully she laid her hand on his arm in an attempt at comfort and he stopped drinking in response, looking down to smile at her sadly.

"Well, go on then. You should check-" He gestured backwards.

Careful inspection revealed several ruined dressings and a few reopened wounds near major joints, all easily mended. A little antiseptic, a few fresh bandages and she was done.

They made it all the way to the couch with dinner before Chloe noticed anything else.

"Oh my God!" She said, staring at the powder-burned holes in the front of his shirt. "What are those? They look like… bullet holes."

"Hm?" Lucifer looked down, as if to see what she was talking about, then flashed her a reassuring grin. "Oh, they are, yes. Peirce had a pistol."

Further attempts at questioning were shut down by Netflix and questions about her enjoyment of the meal. It was clear he was open to discussion some other time, but that question would not be answered tonight. Chloe tried to focus on whatever insipid movie he had put on, but her thoughts kept wandering.

She remembered their first case, how he had seemed to simply walk up to a man, while said man was shooting at him point-blank, and grabbed the gun without injury. Lucifer's claims that he was invulnerable, and his surprise when she shot him and it worked. The way he simply flung himself into danger, as if unused to the possibility of death. The current contradiction of his destroyed wings and undamaged torso. There was something there, some answer dancing just out of view, but what it might be was beyond her. Just like Charlotte, she knew there was some logical answer, but she had no ability to grab it.

After the movie ended, the pair just sat on the couch, each not wanting the contact to end, but also unwilling to admit that out loud. Chloe was curled into his side, his right wing behind her while the other trailed off the side of the sofa onto the floor. After the drink she had had with dinner, she was feeling quite comfortable.

There was something bothering her. She shifted, craning her neck up to look at him, "Don't you ever worry?"

"About what?"

"Well… the antichrist." She kept talking as he grinned in amusement, "I mean, you do sleep with a lot of people and no contraceptive is 100% effective. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Detective, the antichrist is a myth, born of humans' overactive imaginations. You know, the Devil's evil, right? And if the Devil is evil, then surely any spawn of his would have to be even more evil, now wouldn't it." He let out a soft scoffing noise. "Regardless of the fact that no one is inherently evil from birth, angels cannot procreate with humans, and all the members of my own race are my siblings. I am sterile, at least to all intents and purposes."

"So… you can't ever have kids?" Maybe it was the alcohol, but that sounded incredibly sad to her.

"No. No angel can." Lucifer paused, "I can't get human diseases either. So, I cannot get or spread STDs, or get anyone pregnant. No risk at all except social, if you were worried about that."

It made sense though, sad as it was. Most animal species couldn't intermix, after all. The genetics were too far apart. And she was sure their genetics were _very_ far apart.

"It's probably for the best. I mean, can you imagine me as a father?" He chuckled softly.

She did imagine it, and smiled. He was always so nervous and awkward around Trixie, alternating between treating her like an adult and treating her like a small dog, as if he had no idea what do with her. He tossed her toys and treats, almost never called her by name, tried to let her drive his insanely valuable car, and gave her hundred-dollar bills in exchange for minor tasks or simply on a whim.

Trixie adored him.

"Yeah." Chloe said, her mouth still twisted in an amused smile. She ignored the bewildered look she got in response.

Two days ago she had kissed him. She still didn't know where she wanted to go with that.

Chloe finally fell asleep curled on a bed of feathers, with Lucifer's arm around her and her head nestled in his muscular shoulder. She felt safe and warm and happy, a way she couldn't have imagined feeling that morning, standing in a room full of bloody feathers facing a monster.

The angel looked down at her and smiled. Sure, her weight on his injured wing hurt a bit, and sure he only needed four hours of sleep and she needed eight, but she looked so content there that he decided not to move. Logistical issues be damned; he loved this human.

There would doubtless be more difficulties, arguments, and questions as time went on, there always were, but they would face them together, as partners. Lucifer laid his head on hers and they both went to sleep on the couch, peaceful and content in each other's embrace.


	6. Chapter 6- Someone's Been a Naughty Girl

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thanks to everyone who read, followed, faved, and of course reviewed. I love you all so much. Welcome to Part 2 – Season 4. I am going to try to actually go by episode, so it'll have titles and all that. Hope you all enjoy!

I'm sorry for the short chapter, but I reached a good stopping place and decided to publish.

**SandorthienLiza:** Thanks! I hope you like the new storyline! **WittyReviewer:** Lol. Poor Chloe. It all does take some getting used to. The main accomplishment of that story, of course, was putting a different context on things. It made things less her vs. the Devil, and more both of them vs. his devil face and mental issues. **Cathy Sullins:** Thanks! **Guest:** Your wish is my command. First chapter of revised season 4! **MidnightWriter44678:** Don't worry, there are many stories that we will be hearing. I am so glad you liked it, and I hope you equally like what I have planned. **ShelbyT:** Well, here it is. Enjoy! **IHaveYouTilITearIan'sValues:** Lucifer was more subdued, but then he was in severe pain and trying to help Chloe, so… yeah, less humor. I will definitely be touching on him being accepted, Chloe's journey in regards to that, and Lucifer's own feeling about it. His depression and lack of self-worth might make it difficult for him to accept being accepted, but hopefully they'll all get there. Read on!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

*Three Weeks Later*

"_911\. What's your emergency?"_

"_Oh. Oh God."_

"_Sir? Sir, what is happening?" _

"_There's so much blood."_

"_Where are you? Can you give me an exact address?_

_*Silence* "Umm… I don't know. Oh God. She's- she's not breathing. I think she's dead!"_

"_Sir! I can send responders to your location, but I need an address. Where are you?"_

"_Uh… I- I don't… some horse park… the show…"_

_*Typing* "Are you at 480 West Riverside Drive? The Los Angeles Equestrian Center?"_

"_Um… maybe."_

"_I have sent responders to your location. What is your name, sir?"_

"_David Niall"_

"_Can you tell me who is injured?"_

"_My… my girlfriend. She… Oh God!"_

* * *

Chloe sighed as she got out of the car. Day two on the job. This morning began her first case since Peirce died. Her first case since her world got turned upside down.

The equestrian park consisted of acres and acres of underwatered yellow-grey field, crisscrossed with some paved streets, but much more often gravel trails that were little more than washed out gullies. In the center of the park, buried as far back by as circuitous a path as possible, sat a large warehouse-like indoor arena that was the center proper. Unfortunately, they were not going there. At least not yet.

Instead the crime scene was around the side of the building, in the rows upon rows of eerily silent campers parked there, abandoned for the moment by police order. She stared as she passed each one, surrounded by x-pens, large metal or cloth dog crates, fans, and carpets. Many of the cages were colorfully decorated with name plates and blankets draped over the top.

Finally, she climbed the pull-down stairs into a sizeable brown-striped trailer with a logo on the back.

She hadn't told or invited Lucifer. Of course he was stir-crazy after three weeks inside, but his safety was more important than his boredom. She would not risk him coming back on the job and getting hurt just because he was unwilling to properly rest and take care of himself.

"Hey Ella." The tech was where she always was, kneeling by the side of a blood-soaked corpse, nonchalantly listening to music on her earbuds.

At Chloe's approach she jumped up, smiling. "Hey. Welcome back!" Suddenly her face fell. Chloe could swear Ella's eyes actually scanned a six-by-two Devil-shaped space immediately to her left. "No Lucifer?"

Chloe gave her a straight-mouthed awkward smile. It wasn't like the man was dead. "Nope. No Lucifer. Just me."

"Oh my God! Is he okay? Did you two break up?" Chloe shot her a concerned look. They weren't together; they never had been. "…From your totally professional super awesome partnership."

"He's okay, Ella. Everything's fine. He just… needs a little more time to recuperate, that's all." She sucked in a breath, then released it. Time to get things back on track. "So, what can you tell me about the victim?"

"Meagan Smith, 26, killed by blunt force trauma to the head. Front, not back, so she saw her attacker. The murder weapon is missing, but judging from this head wound, I would say… kinda round, about 6 - 8 inches across the base, surprisingly heavy for its size. She was hit multiple times."

"What about time of death?"

"The 911 call came in at 10:28 PM, and I think time of death is just a little before that, but we won't be sure until we get the autopsy results."

Chloe nodded. "Who made the call?"

Ella gestured toward the outside. "Um, her boyfriend, Dave Nyall. He claims he came in and found her lying here. He says he tried to help her at first, which explains why he's kinda covered in blood." She went silent, staring at the body, a pensive look on her face. "God, that must suck. Everything just ending with no rhyme or reason… stuck in a void of nothingness… forever… No heaven, no hell, just black…"

Chloe excused herself and made for the door. She felt sorry for Ella and her current crisis of faith, but she had other things to do.

She opened the door and stared, greeted by the grinning face of someone who most definitely _wasn't_ supposed to be there.

"Detective! You forgot to call me. That's okay; I came anyway. I brought coffee, no whiskey don't worry. I know how you dislike it." The foolhardy idiot held out a starbucks cup, and no, just because she accepted his non-alcoholic bribe did not mean she wasn't pissed.

Chloe stormed down the stairs, "What the _hell_ are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

"Well, you're back at work, Detective. I went to the station and you weren't there, so I simply asked around until I learned your whereabouts." The grin, momentarily gone at her anger, had returned, and he was doing that weird little bouncing thing that meant he was proud of himself. "So, what's the case?"

Chloe forcibly grabbed his arm to drag him out of earshot. The last thing they needed was for someone to overhear their conversation.

"Lucifer, we agreed that you need rest."

"Noo… You agreed. I listened. I didn't promise anything; I didn't lie."

Chloe waited until he properly faced her and made eye contact before speaking, "Okay. You want on the case, get your wings out without wincing. Don't worry, I'll wait."

"What? Here? In front of everyone?" His voice was teasing, almost threatening to actually do it and Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

She sighed. "You got shot 118 times. By some miracle, none of them broke any bones. Still, that isn't something you just bounce back from. Bullet wounds can take _months_ to heal. You shouldn't be back at work until you're 100%. Don't rush yourself."

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond.

"And if you say the words 'I'm fine' one more time, I _will_ slap you."

The happy grin slid to a joking flirtatious leer, "Would you really?"

Chloe closed her eyes to count to ten. _Okay, Decker, think about this. He's not going to leave. He will just keep following you around from a distance the entire case, until he gets shot or stabbed or nearly killed confronting someone he shouldn't have. You may as well keep him where you can watch him._

10 reached, patience restored, she opened her eyes. "Fine. You can stay." She ignored Lucifer's smug expression, as if somehow the leering and puppy eyes had worn her down. "But, promise me you will be careful. You don't want to reinjure yourself. You _will_ follow my lead, and if it's all too much, you _will_ tell me and go home."

"You have my word." He called after her as she walked away, "It's not like I use my wings on cases!"

* * *

Grinning, Lucifer hurried to walk beside her back toward the crime scene. He had won, of course. The Detective never could resist his charm.

He stared at the fluttering, weirdly cluttered trailer park. "So, what is all this? The world's most pathetic Gypsy caravan?"

"Dog show. Our victim was here with her boyfriend to compete. They have six Tibetan Mastiffs, currently inside. Unfortunately, none of the dogs were inside the camper at the time of the murder, so no luck there. One of the other competitors offered to watch them during the investigation."

He motioned toward the taped-off camper. "Six massive dogs and two adult humans? In there? I mean, I am familiar with masochism, but that lends new meaning to the word." He enjoyed watching Chloe struggle not to either roll her eyes or smile at his joke. Professionalism tragically won out, and her face remained largely impassive.

"They also have a pickup truck."

The camper trailer was every bit as miserable as it had looked. Even now, after some of the unis had already moved on, it was stuffed to the gills with people for lack of floor space. The body lay in the middle of the isle, in a location that was extremely inconvenient for everyone involved. Dog supplies stuffed the cabinets and were piled along the walls, some of the containers now splattered with blood. It was a far cry from the glitz and glamor of the last dog show murder he had attended.

Well, Ella seemed excited at least. "Hey stranger! Chloe said you weren't coming." Her grin turned to concern. "Are you okay? I heard you got hurt. What happened? Did Peirce really shoot you?" Her hands messed with his suit jacket, as if he would have a visible wound or a hole in his shirt three weeks later.

"I am quite all right; thank you Miss Lopez. If you could just fill me in on the sordid details of the case, that would be marvelous."

"Right, sure. I'll… do that. Since you weren't with Chloe when I explained it before… Anyhoo…" The awkward rambling turned to an efficient, professional rundown of the case. Lucifer got the information, but his focus was elsewhere. On Chloe.

Overall, things seemed great. She had questions and concerns, of course, which he answered as well as he could. Their time together had been pleasant, and she seemed happy. Still, at times he could feel her pulling away. There were flickers of fear and panic, when he moved to suddenly or unexpectedly came up behind her. As much as he told himself that it would go away, it concerned him. Maze had also left him a ranting voicemail, all about how Chloe was clearly uncomfortable around her and it was ALL HIS FAULT.

Oh well. He had already made an appointment with Linda. Being human, she would understand the Detective's issues and be able to recommend a course of action. In the meantime, there was little to be done apart from making himself useful. So he did, looking through cabinets for anything out of the ordinary.

Then he found something, hidden among the overabundance of grooming supplies. A small zippered bag labeled 'DON'T USE AROUND JUDGES'. Its contents were strange: Jars of something called 'grooming powder' and sticks of 'coat chalk,' both in multiple colors, as well as application brushes and markers labeled 'nose black.' It all screamed cheating. Cheating meant motive.

Not that he could think of any reason to _cheat_ at a dog show.

"What did you find?" Chloe had come up beside him, more than accustomed to him finding leads unexpectedly.

Lucifer held up the bag. "I think someone's been a naughty girl."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Many thanks to those who read, followed and faved, and a special shout out to my reviewers: I love you guys!

Several quick notes before the review replies:

I am trying to incorporate the three week span between my S3 finale and my S4 beginning. My best idea for how to do this is through flashbacks, but they will not necessarily be chronological, nor will the information given about this time in the narrative. For example, in this chapter there are certain emails mentioned, as well as a flashback. The emails were sent quite a while before the conversation took place, a timeline which I try to make clear in the story. If anyone is ever confused, please ask and I will happily explain order of events.

**Building a major**: Quickly defining a term I do not have an opportunity to explain in-narrative. Confirmation showing works on a point system. In AKC, you need 15 points on a dog for a champion title. Two of those shows need to be **majors** worth three points or higher. The number of dogs in the breed/gender class determines the number of points a showing is worth. Thus some people **build a major** at a small show or for a rare breed by bringing their own dogs to increase numbers. It's technically against the rules, but judges rarely call anyone on it. Judges aren't allowed to ask anyone whose dog their showing anyway, making it a difficult infraction to detect.

Okay. On to the reviews!

**ShelbyT:** Maybe ;) **Guest:** Your wish is my command. Have a chapter. **Cathy Sullins:** Thanks! **lipamo:** Chapter 4: Aw, thanks! Maze was fun to write, and Lucifer is adorable when he's pining. **MidnightWriter44678:** Thank you. I hope it turns out; I don't consider myself very good at writing cases. I confess, a lot of the reason I wanted to do this case was accuracy. Every single film adaptation I have seen of dog showing is laughable. Seriously, they could get more right just by googling 'dog show.' Anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy it, and I have lots of good stuff planned for season 4. Keep reading!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Ten days Ago – Lux's penthouse

Chloe sat on the couch, staring horrified at her laptop screen. Research had led her to medieval artwork of Hell, somehow much more horrifying when she knew it was a real place. Men were impaled repeatedly with spears, women screamed as demons slowly ripped them apart piece by piece, and above it all was that awful figure: terrible and evil, a dark monstrous creature devouring an infant whole. Legs and arms stuck out of his mouth and blood sprayed through the air and dripped down his chin as the monster Satan-

"No. No, no, no, no, no. That is unacceptable. For the last time, I am not a goat." Chloe looked up to find Lucifer glaring disapprovingly at her laptop screen. "The rest of it isn't accurate either. Perfectly dreadful depiction, actually."

"You told me I could do research. They're pictures of Hell."

"No, they aren't. They are imaginative drawings meant to frighten people." He paused, brow furrowing in worry as he studied her face. "Which is exactly what they have been doing to you… Well, why would you take those artists' word for it? Just because they lived a long time ago and made some religious art doesn't mean they know anything more than you do. None of them had even been there. How would they have the faintest idea what it's like?"

Chloe paused. He was right. There was something about Bosch and similar artists that felt authentic; as if they had somehow just happened across the chaotic torture orgy in the woods and decided to draw it, but they were all just people. Like her, they had simply imagined what such a place might be like and conveyed that on a page. It was ridiculous, really, to take their word for it. Particularly considering she had an actual authority right next to her. "You know what, you're right." She moved over, motioning for Lucifer to sit down. She waited for him to do so, watching him carefully navigate his bandaged wings onto the couch in a way that wouldn't get in his way.

"Tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me about Hell."

Lucifer looked hesitant, worried, concerned. He had pulled back, his legs crossed and his chin pulled in in a closed off expression. Chloe suspected he had planned never to talk about it with her.

"From what perspective? Mine, a human's, Maze's…?"

"All of it." She pointed at the painting. "If _that's_ wrong, tell me what it's really like. Just describe Hell. As a place."

"Well, um…" He trailed of for a moment, as if uncertain where to start or how much to tell. "It's not like that, for starters. It's all much more… individualized. It's not dissimilar from a very large prison, actually. You know, endless stone hallways lined with cells, dark and unpleasant. I had apartments, of course, away from it all, but much of my time was taken up guarding and managing the bloody place. That was my real job; I didn't actually do much torturing. That's what the demons are for."

Once again, Chloe felt her fear of the devil slowly reducing, if not her fear of the actual place and his role in it. "So, you're not really a king; you're more of a warden, basically. You know, going with your prison analogy."

Lucifer slowly nodded, still looking hesitant. "Yes… I suppose so. A warden, an administrator. You've met Maze. Imagine billions of demons without anyone to control them. It would be chaos. Hell was built so only an angel could rule. You have to have wings just to reach the throne."

If Lucifer was here Chloe couldn't help wondering who was controlling Hell's demon population right now, but decided not to bring it up, "What about the climate? The whole…fire and brimstone thing. Pools of lava, flames, roads of live coals…"

She actually got an amused smile and a soft chuckle for that. "No, those are myths. Hell isn't a pit of fire and lava, but it is quite hot, and there is a constant rain of ash, like living beside an active volcano. One would think it was snowing apart from the smell." Lucifer pulled in a breath, evidently deciding to stop dancing around the central issues and get right down to it. "But I know you didn't start researching Hell to learn about the weather. So… damnation."

"Yeah. Yeah, let's talk about that." The surreal feeling Chloe had had discussing Eden was back. Age old questions about the universe, about death or the afterlife or events in the Bible, were all just there for the asking. Every mystery that humans had spent all of civilization wondering, she could just… know.

"Well, I believe I told you that humans damn themselves. Guilt and pain drag them down and keep them from reaching Heaven. The same continues in Hell." He paused. "Humans torture themselves for the most part. Demons can take part, either to ramp up the torture for whatever reason or for their own entertainment, but, um, it's essentially the person's own guilt. Each cell holds a soul, and on entry it senses or extracts what the person believes they deserve and plays it on a loop. Usually it's what they feel guilty about, although sometimes it is more traditional torture. I want to emphasize that this is entirely the person's own choice; the doors aren't locked and anyone who got over their guilt could leave at any time. No one ever has."

Chloe's face must have expressed her confusion, because the angel started casting about for an example.

"Let's see, what's one you would be familiar with… Oh! Yes, of course, the poisoner. You remember, the serial killer who wanted to prove that everyone would protect their livelihood over the life of another person."

"I remember." How the hell could she not? She had almost _died._

"His hell loop consists of the car crash that ruined his life. He stands there, chooses between his thesis and the life of a college student, then reaches past the sobbing boy for his briefcase and runs away. If, someday he either made the other choice and saved the student, or if he was able to make peace with his actions… well, who knows. Perhaps that would be enough for him to forgive himself. Perhaps he would go to heaven. Since such a thing has never happened, we don't actually know." He paused, studying her face. "I hope that answers your questions. I loathe the place and I hope never to go back."

Lucifer stood up and walked off toward the bar, leaving Chloe on the couch while he poured a drink.

There was something odd in what he had said. "How do you know?"

"What?"

He slowly turned around, and their eyes finally met.

"You haven't been to Hell in eight years. How do you know what Dr. Carlyle's loop looks like?"

Lucifer looked trapped and didn't respond. Chloe didn't need him too.

She started thinking through exactly what had happened. She had been dying; she knew that. Dan and Trixie even came in to say goodbye. Then it was all just… over, fixed. Lucifer had apparently produced the formula and she was fine.

Chloe slowly walked toward him as she verbally finished working it out. "Carlyle didn't write his formulas down anywhere. The only place they existed were in his head, and you… just found it. Dan thought you found some notes, but you didn't, did you? You went back to Hell and you talked to him. You… convinced him to give you the formula." She paused, now directly in front of the angel. Lucifer looked bewildered, his head cocked with his eyes squinted, as if unsure what she was going to do.

Chloe felt him stiffen in confusion as she threw her arms around him, in his usual uncertain reaction to platonic affection. "Thank you." She said.

She couldn't see his smile or the hesitant gratitude in his eyes, but slowly she felt his body relax and his hands gradually moved to rest on her back.

* * *

Present Day - At the Crime Scene

As David had already been removed from the scene, and somehow, doubtless by some pulled strings, the show was still going, Chloe decided to begin the interviews with the other contestants. Accordingly, she and her Armani clad shadow made their way to a side door into the center.

Her first step into the building was definitely overwhelming, but the first thing to hit was the smell. Hairspray mixed with the building's permanent horsey smell, making for a weird but distinct scent. As for sound, the room was surprisingly quiet apart from some terse announcements and an endless underlying murmur of conversation. It wasn't at all what she would have expected from a room full of dogs.

She wasn't sure where to go, and from her poor vantage point near the corner of the room, Chloe tried to determine the layout.

There was a grid of square rings nearest her, numbered from 1-12 and marked off with short expanding wooden fences. There were no flowers or other decoration, just a table at each ring's entrance with a couple of volunteer clerks. No one actually seemed to be in charge; everyone scurried about randomly, seemingly already knowing their destination.

"Rather like an anthill, isn't it?" said a soft British voice near her ear. "By the way, how is your research into my past getting on? Have any of them replied yet?"

Chloe stiffened. She had indeed reached out to some historians early in their time together, but she didn't know how _he_ knew about it. She didn't even know why the question concerned her; Lucifer had been the one to suggest she research him after all, but there was still something unnerving about him knowing.

The emails had been sent while he was out of the room; not because she thought he would _mind_, she just felt awkward about researching someone while they were hanging over her shoulder. They simply asked if anyone had come across any historical accounts or pictures of a 'Lucifer Morningstar,' or any reasonable accounts of demon possession or interactions with the devil. A rather detailed description of the devil face and his desire thing was included, framed of course as an obscure folk tale.

"No. No one's replied." She finally forced out. Sick of trying to figure this place out on her own, and possibly wanting to escape this particular conversation, Chloe struck out for the nearest ring table.

Despite her own nervous tension, Lucifer's tone was still light and breezy, casual, cheerful even. "Well, don't worry. It's been nearly three weeks; they'll get back to you soon. And when they do, Detective, you simply _must_ tell me what you find. Learning which of my many exploits have survived sounds positively thrilling."

Chloe determinedly ignored him, instead walking up to the table and producing her badge. "LAPD. Who's in charge here?"

The girl (only about 14, she now saw, despite her immaculate deep green suit) looked around with a lost expression, as if hoping for an adult to materialize out of thin air with answers. When one failed to show up she turned back to Chloe, clearly nervous. "Um… I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm here with my mom to be an extra pair of hands. I just volunteered for a food voucher." She shrank down in her chair, clearly intimidated by the idea of talking to cops while simultaneously letting her eyes drift over Lucifer in obvious fascination.

Honestly. Grown women checking him out was one thing, a fourteen-year-old child whose eyes looked ready to fall out of her head from gawking was another. Chloe couldn't even manage disgust or her usual unfounded jealousy, the whole thing was just so pathetic. At least Lucifer looked as disturbed as she felt; he had taken a step back and was eyeing the girl with concern.

"Okay, well, we need to talk to everyone who slept in the camper lot last night. Is there anywhere that we could conduct interviews? Anywhere where all the competitors gather? Maybe some common dressing room or something?"

"Um…" The girl finally forced her gaze back to the cop, "Uh, I guess there's the grooming area. Pretty much everyone's over there in between ring times." She pointed, "It's over there."

"Great. Thanks." Chloe hurried away.

Lucifer towered over the table in passing, gracing the girl with a quick smile. "You have been most helpful." He walked after Chloe and continued, "Don't you want to question her?"

"She's a minor, Lucifer. We can't interview her without a parent present."

"Right. Of course."

* * *

The first interview was one Julia Ransom, a pretty redhead in a shiny gold sequined suit, and Chloe scanned her setup while dispensing with the early, identifying questions.

"_Name?" "Which camper is yours?"_

Her small area was carpeted, with a grooming table and a couple of chairs. Crates and pens lined the several feet of wall behind her, all filled with a variety of gorgeous, perfectly cared for animals. Nearby were a couple of large pens filled with six massive fluffy bear-like dogs: Meagan Smith's Tibetan Mastiffs, Chloe assumed. Julia herself had sat down for a quick lunch; cheap cold Chinese food from her abandoned camper fridge.

"So, you're taking care of Meagan's dogs."

Julia had jumped up from her meal at the start of the conversation, and now stood awkwardly, clearly busy but staying to talk. "Well, we're all chipping in. Supplies, food, space. I'm just watching them." She paused. "Sorry about the chaos. Normally most of my dogs would just stay out by the camper, but with the police out there we aren't allowed to leave anybody out near the crime scene, so I am packed today."

"It's fine. Um, did you know her? Meagan Smith?"

"Uh… not particularly. I saw her at shows sometimes, and she lent me a show lead one time, but I wouldn't say I knew her." She paused, evidently wanting to explain. "Meagan is an owner handler. She breeds Tibetan Mastiffs and shows them herself. I mostly do small dogs, so we didn't have many classes together or cross paths all that much."

"Where were you last night between ten and eleven PM?"

"I was out. I have a friend who lives in the area and we don't see each other much, so we went to dinner and then ran to Walmart. I needed some stuff. I wasn't back until 11:30, and then I went straight to bed."

"Can you prove that?"

"Yeah. My friend's name is Elizabeth Harris. You can talk to her. She'll vouch for me."

Lucifer regarded the row of crates with obvious amusement. "Are these all yours?" He laughed, "I mean, I know you people love your pets but this seems a bit much."

"What? No, I don't own any of these. I'm a professional handler. Most people here are. Breeders hire me to train and show their dogs." She paused. "Well, I have a co-own on Katy, but that's just so I can show her in owner-handler classes."

Okay. Julia didn't seem like a suspect, but maybe she would have information on another lead. "What can you tell me about this?" Chloe held out the pouch from the camper, letting the handler look through it.

Julia shrugged. "It's pretty standard. Dog's coats get discolored and the powder makes the colors more vibrant. You know, a white dog with a yellowed tail or newsprint staining on its paws isn't going to get very far. I mean, it's not technically allowed, but you can find the same products at every grooming station in here."

"What about the nose marker?"

The woman smiled, "Self-colored dogs, like chocolates or other dilute colors, often have tan or mottled noses. Since judges prefer black noses, you just take a marker and color it in. No one cares."

Chloe had a sinking feeling that this lead wasn't going to pan out the way they had hoped.

Lucifer jumped in, "So Meagan wasn't cheating then?"

"Well, I guess technically you could call it 'cheating,' but it's no more than anyone else does. Next you'll be telling me she puts weight on her dogs so they'll have 'bone,' or that she creatively grooms to hide an imperfect topline. There is a lot of money involved and championing a dog out is a huge investment for a breeder. Everyone does whatever they have to do to win, that's all."

"Is that what that ridiculous suit is about? _Attention?_"

Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was used to Lucifer derailing interviews, making quips and throwing slight insults at their suspects and witnesses. Still.

Julia didn't seem to take offence. "Yeah, it is, partly. You want the judge to notice you, and you're a backdrop for your dog, so you want to choose a suit that will show them off well. My next dog is black, so he'll look good against gold."

All right. This had clearly gone on long enough. "Thank you for your time. Don't leave town."

They gradually made their way down the list. LA was a large show and Chloe started to feel fatigued by the fifth hour of futile questioning. Everyone said much the same thing: No, they didn't know the victim, or at least not well enough to have any motive. Yes, they had an alibi, and no they hadn't seen anything. Multiple people noted that Meagan was clearly building a major, bringing six dogs, but also pointed out that few enough people showed that breed that even a massive show like LA wasn't a major on its own and they didn't mind. So, even that wasn't motive.

The end of the day was approaching, Ella still didn't have a murder weapon, they had turned up no new leads, and it could be days before the forensic analysis and autopsy were finished. Chloe was getting a headache.

They approached the last table, an older man in a charcoal suit, carefully applying hairspray and comb to a seemingly already perfectly groomed Pomeranian.

"Well, hello again, Vincent." Lucifer drawled. "Fancy meeting you here."

The large man actually beamed at Lucifer. "Hey! Lucifer, right?" He paused, "Gotta say, you look good. How's that other guy doing? Uh… Esparza, or whatever…"

Chloe had no idea what was going on, but the large, powerfully built, slightly sketchy-looking guy with scars on his face, currently applying copious amounts of hairspray to a little white fluffball of a dog had Lucifer's weird desire thing written all over it.

"How… exactly… do you two know each other?"

The question was primarily directed at her partner, but it was Vincent who answered. "He and that other guy, they solved a murder my Cornelia was involved in a while ago. It's awful what happened and all, but that murder turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me." His focus shifted to Lucifer's grinning face, "I got Cornelia and her babies - you know, since her daddy killed her other daddy - and while trying to figure out what to do I met some great people involved in actual showing. I've started working as a professional handler and I haven't looked back."

"Cornelia was a dog." Lucifer assured her, before turning back to his strange acquaintance. "So you're not showing, what was it… Elliot… anymore?"

"Nah. He's not registered. No papers, you can't show them in any real kennel club, certainly not AKC. Turns out that other circuit was just some weird local hobby club for celebrities and rich jackasses to show their dogs off to each other. Elitist pricks. He still comes with me to all the shows and guards my grooming station though, don't you boy?"

The last part was directed at a massive, slightly terrifying bull mastiff, sleepily lying on the edge of the carpet with his head on his paws. He was loosely tied to the grooming table, and as they watched a child stroked the monster in passing. 'Elliot' briefly raised his head to mournfully watch the retreating figure but made no other motion to pursue.

"Yeah, he's a sweetheart, my Ellie. Everyone loves him."

Chloe was sure this was all fascinating, but she had a murder to solve. She cleared her throat, "Where were you last night between ten and eleven PM?"

The hairspray was temporarily discarded, instead Vincent was carefully standing the Pomeranian on the table, picking him up and doing a weird seesaw motion before precisely placing one foot at a time back on the surface. "I was asleep in my camper. My first ring time was at nine this morning, so I had to be up pretty early to get all the chores in." Apparently, the Pomeranian was doing well, standing still on the table, because Vincent took some shredded chicken from his pocket and gradually conferred it to the motionless cloud.

"Can someone confirm that?"

He shrugged, "Sorry. Like I said, I was asleep by 9:30."

"Did you know the victim?"

"Can't say I did, really. She was the one with all those gorgeous mastiffs, right?"

Why did every person they came across seem to only know people by their dogs? "Yeah."

"No, I didn't know her. Shame that." He paused, "Is there much more? Topper and I need to get to ring seven."

"Sure. You can go." The man gratefully gathered up his panting prick-eared bundle of hair and a brush, then rushed off toward the bustle on the other side of the room.

Chloe stared after him "Wow."

"So, still no leads." Lucifer commented.

The woman huffed, "I don't get it. How can we go through every single person at that campsite and have fewer leads than when we started? I don't think any of them are even viable suspects. How..?"

"Well, don't worry Detective. Perhaps the boyfriend will have more for us tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Welcome back and thank you to everyone who favorited and reviewed. Shout out to my new follows; glad to have you along for the ride!

Side note: The song Lover by Taylor Swift is giving me all the Deckerstar feels. Cruel Summer is amazing for them too.

**Luinlothana:** Thank you so much! I'm flattered that you think so much of my writing. Personally, I don't have any particular issues with S4's characterization. I think Peirce really took a lot out of Chloe and left her faith in her instincts completely shattered. You know, if she could be that wrong about Peirce, especially as regards exposing Trixie to him, how can she trust herself about the actual Devil. It doesn't help that Chloe thinks of herself as a "nobody." She wanted to get away and look at everything objectively, so she left and looked for an authority to refer to. Unfortunately, she was wrong and Kinley found her when she was vulnerable. I really tried to keep my characterization in the first chapters to where her canon actions were still a logical option. Instead, of course, Chloe was forced into talking to him and so was able to work through her feelings much faster. But boy oh boy, we have not seen the real fight yet.

What do you usually compete? I ride too, though I am mostly on trails and I really love sidesaddle and trick riding. I just got my own horse for the first time, actually. She's a gorgeous brindled bay morgan mare, 14.2 hands. I love my Artemis to death. (And yes, I am aware "brindle" refers to dogs, I don't know what that marking pattern is called in horses.) Sorry to sidetrack the review response, I'm just really excited and I want to talk about it.

I really like your idea about the vulnerability. I might just steal that if it winds up fitting, if it's okay with you. Enjoy!

**ShelbyT:** They will talk about his vulnerability. At the moment I'm not sure when; there are lots of good places in the first few episodes to put it and the poor darlings have a lot of stuff coming. Be assured though, it will be discussed. **JayeMaru: **I'm glad you like it so far! Don't worry, I have lots planned for the season. ;) Some fluff, some pain, some awkwardness… the way Lucifer should always be. Read on… **IHaveYouTilITearIan'sValues:** My mother breeds longcoat chihuahuas and my sister has bred shelties since I was seven (she was twelve). I am very familiar with both confirmation and agility showing. The way the media portrays it is a joke. Fun fact: Julia, the handler in the last chapter, is based on the handler we always use. She's amazing. **MidnightWriter44678:** I just remember watching the dog show ep on Lucifer and being completely lost. I literally could not figure out what was going on. I mean seriously, why was there a stage? Did they actually rent a theatre? Why? Why did the show hire a vet? Why was everyone concerned about the Best in Show thing? WHAT IS HAPPENING? I admit though, some of it was unintentionally really funny.

Vincent: Those snobs would never give my dog a fair shake, so I pay someone to pretend to be his owner.

Me: Do you mean a handler..? You don't have to hide that. You can just hire them.

Vincent was literally the only one who actually seemed like a person who would be at a show, down to being blue collar and a professional trainer. I thought he deserved to get more into it.

I will say though, the weirdest part is the media thinking it's a hobby. It's not. My aforementioned Mom isn't getting 3000-4000 dollars a puppy just because they're cute. It's because most of our dogs are either champions or out of champion lines. People know they're buying quality, and they are willing to pay for it. Showing is an investment in a dog's future breeding career, usually costing thousands to tens of thousands of dollars a dog, and consequently there are very few hobbyists or pet people involved. When a dog is shown that isn't likely to be bred, it's advertising for the kennel and the lines it comes from. Everyone is pretty serious and businesslike too, none of this ridiculous diva behavior or petty backbiting. Oh and Best in Show isn't nearly as big a deal as the media would have you believe. Don't get me wrong, it's great to win (We got Reserve Best in Show once: second place showwide), it was an amazing feeling and we couldn't believe it happened, but it's not like it gets you additional points or anything. It's just a title you can put after the dog's name: BIS or RBIS. The whole thing is just a really weird contrast.

Sorry, didn't mean to start a rant there… Enjoy my peace offering…

I do not own Lucifer or it's characters.

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

Every so often Linda considered anti-depressants for her most difficult patient. Dear God if anyone had ever needed the help it was him. Every time she did she remembered his addictive personality, the constant drug use that would make avoiding medicine incompatibility next to impossible, and the fact that she had no idea what the dosage would have to be. Something illegally high, she was sure.

And so every time she was left back at square one: relying entirely on therapy and talking through his issues. Which was difficult when Lucifer refused to discuss any of his serious mental issues or more major traumas. Much of his time ruling Hell (including his visit back two years ago to help Chloe) was off limits, he avoided speaking of his early life or fall in any but the vaguest terms, his self-hatred and abandonment issues were both swept under the tiny rug teetering on the top of what she privately called 'Denial Mountain,' and speaking to him this morning there was evidently something else added to the pile.

Linda tried to steer the conversation over to Cain's death and Lucifer's returned devil face, but that just made him close off and change the subject. She could understand; Lucifer had never killed a human before, and God had clearly drilled the sanctity of human life into His children so thoroughly that even the life of someone as horrible as Cain was inviolable. Hell, that was probably a good thing, considering Mom's and Uriel's actions. She didn't want to think about the sort of things that might happen if angels thought killing humans _wasn't_ a world-ending offence.

They could always discuss those things another time. After all, forcing such conversations would never do him any good. Instead she moved to asking him about his time with Chloe. Three weeks was a substantial amount of time. Certainly enough for them to discuss things.

"Well, I am nearly well. The Detective's first day back was entirely meetings and paperwork, so we were apart for a good ten hours. That improved things drastically." He grinned reassuringly. "You know, there's still some bruising, but apart from that I'm right as rain."

"I'm glad to hear it." Lucifer always responded well to praise. Any particle of positive thinking or openness she always tried to reward, like clicker-training a dog. Hopefully it would encourage him to slowly creep out of his shell. "And Chloe? Have you two talked about things?"

He nodded. "We have… discussed my identity, and Hell, and I think she is taking it all quite well personally." He went on to explain how they talked about Charlotte, the antichrist, and some other myths related to himself. "And of course the spawn ought to be back any day now, so she will be moving back home soon." His smile turned false at that, and Linda could tell he dreaded going back to an empty apartment, however he might spin it.

"What about your vulnerability? Have you discussed that? It does affect your work together, after all."

For the first time in this conversation Lucifer averted his gaze, subconsciously trying to avoid the question. "She has… mentioned it a few times, but something always comes up and she forgets about it."

"You've had plenty of opportunities to bring it up yourself. Why haven't you?"

"Well I…" He gestured about hopelessly.

"Before you were afraid of how she would react to your devil face. But she accepted that. She has accepted everything else you've told her too, without judgement. What's wrong?"

Her patient looked pained. "It's… not fair to put that on her. While I don't understand all the details, I know it is at least partially caused by my… caring for her." He paused, "The Detective is dealing with enough; she doesn't need an unsolicited declaration of love on top of it all."

Linda nodded. "You're trying to protect her." She personally wished he would stop trying to 'protect' Chloe and just _do_ something already, but that wasn't her job. Even if the whole thing was utterly stupid.

Lucifer continued, "It's not just that. She has been… pulling away at times. I thought perhaps it was just that she wasn't used to people having wings, but it continued even once they were furled."

Linda paused, "When you say 'pulling away' what do you mean?"

"Well… sometimes she jolts or flinches if I move unexpectedly. One time she dropped a glass simply because I touched her shoulder when she didn't know I was behind her. She denied it, but I could see the panic on her face. And then, one time she seemed about to kiss me, then suddenly she made for the elevator. She did not return for the rest of the night and never mentioned it again. I think The Detective might be more fearful than she is willing to admit." He stared at her, clearly worried. "What should I do, Doctor?"

Linda paused, thinking. "Just, take it slow. She has been through a lot. Answer her questions, be non-threatening, and let her know that nothing's changed. You're still the same man that you were before." She sighed, "And if she asks about your vulnerability, you don't have to mention your feelings if you don't want to." If things went slowly enough, maybe that would simultaneously keep Lucifer from putting his foot in his mouth and prevent him utterly panicking and bolting at the first sign of intimacy.

"You want me to _lie?_" Lucifer sounded shocked.

"No… You can… be vague." Linda paused. "You don't know what causes it, outside of her proximity, and you can say that. Apart from that, just act natural. Be caring and let Chloe set the pace."

Lucifer's eyes were squinted in thoughtful concentration. "Thank you, Doctor." He said, his voice distant. Then he stood. "Thank you." The archangel said again as he walked toward the door.

Linda hoped she hadn't messed everything up somehow as she watched him leave.

* * *

'David' was most definitely a 'Dave.' He had dark hair styled in a fauxhawk, gauges, and a sleeve tattoo of howling wolves on a mountainside covering his right arm and shoulder. A white tank, red sneakers, and rather loose jeans completed the look. He sat in the interrogation room, head in his hands, looking devastated. Chloe stared at him through the glass, going over their limited information, considering her strategy for the interview. Lucifer hadn't yet arrived, but given he had an appointment with Linda, it was hardly surprising.

A 'ding' from her pocket attracted her attention, and Chloe pulled her phone to check notifications.

One email from an unrecognized address. She clicked it.

_Ms. Decker,_

_I heard from a friend that you're looking for historical information on a "Lucifer Morningstar." I am currently working on my master's thesis on a "Lucifer D'Etoile au Matin," a French expat who lived in Vienna from 1760-63._

_I know it's not exactly the same, but the last name sort of translates to Morningstar. And seriously, how many "Lucifers" can there really be? It's not exactly a common name. There's some weird stuff too. He only exists for those three years. No other records of his life, no birth or death records anywhere and I can't find anything about his family. Weird, especially for someone so insanely rich at the center of fashionable society. Guy's a ghost. _

_As requested, I have attached the only portrait I have of him. Please let me know if you want to connect further._

_Sabrina Grant_

Chloe's finger hovered over the attachment. It might be there, real information on who he was. Proof of immortality.

"This crime against fashion is the boyfriend, I take it."

Lucifer's voice surprised her. He had evidently walked in while she struggled. Chloe pressed the off button and shoved her phone deep in her pocket. She could look at the picture later, on a computer screen where she could properly see it. Positive ID would be hard on a phone screen anyway. "Yeah. He found the body, called it in. You've heard the tape… God, I can't even imagine."

There were a few seconds of silence as Chloe reflected on the tragedy that had befallen this poor man.

"Are you all right?"

"What?" She looked up into Lucifer's concerned face.

"You seem distracted."

She smiled reassuringly, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm fine." She paused. "Hey, dumb question. Were you ever… French?" She expected laughter, gentle mocking. People's nationalities didn't just change, after all.  
"I was for a few centuries actually." He paused for explanation, "I typically change nationalities when the cultural center moves. I am whatever will allow me to have my position and wealth without anyone questioning it or looking too closely. Before French I was Spanish, before that Italian. I speak every language and accents are easy for me, so it isn't difficult. I've been English since the mid-1800s, with the rise of the Empire. I've thought about switching to American, but I like this. Why? Would you prefer French?" Lucifer grinned flirtatiously.

Chloe stared at him. For just the last sentence he had changed, dropping into a completely natural French accent. It was weird; she had heard him do American before, but that was in mocking situations and she hadn't given it much thought. "Please don't ever do that again. Wait, English isn't your first language?"

"What? No, of course not." He laughed lightly. "English is a comparatively new language anyway. Try Aramaic sometime. Maybe Babylonian. Ancient Egyptian was fun."

And now she was being reminded that he was old enough that he had watched the language they were speaking develop from Latin, which just made her head hurt.

"… If that's not your real accent, and this isn't your real language… what do you actually sound like?"

"This is what I sound like."

She sighed, "No. I mean… originally. What do you… sound like naturally. In your own language."

Lucifer studied her for a few seconds, as if trying to determine the wisdom of complying with her request. Finally he gave in.

The angel spoke a few rapid unrecognizable sentences. It was beautiful, lyrical, musical even. There was a built-in awe and reverence to it, a relief like a sudden breeze washing over her on a hot day. Chloe couldn't imagine hearing it all around her, accompanied by singing and rustling wings. Truly, that would be Heaven.

Lucifer looked distant, as though unsure whether to smile or frown. "So, that was Enochian. Funny, I haven't spoken it in forever. Demons mostly speak Lillim and I always made Amenadiel speak whatever my current human language was just to annoy him. Kept him out of my way for a while anyway whenever he had to learn a new one."

She paused. "We should- we should go in, but we'll talk more later, yeah?"

He nodded. "Of course."

* * *

"Hello Mr. Niall. My name is Detective Decker, and this is my partner Mr. Morningstar." Chloe continued speaking as she sat down across from the grieving man. Lucifer remained standing, lingering in the background like an ominous shadow. "I am so sorry for your loss. I can't imagine how awful this must be, but I need to ask you some questions about Meagan's death."

"You don't think _I_ did it!?" Dave practically wailed, sounding equal parts horrified at the idea, terrified of being prosecuted for murder, and offended that they could consider him.

"Well it certainly is a possibility." Lucifer jumped in before she could stop him.

When she was certain he wouldn't say anything further, Chloe continued. "No, we don't. But it is extremely important to get a clear idea of where everyone was at the time of the murder, whether they're a suspect or not, so that we can put together a more accurate timeline. Now, I know you found the body, and she was killed not long before, so an alibi would be hard, but maybe you can just walk me through what happened."

"Well, we went back to the camper after her last ring time. We fed and dealt with her dogs, then I left to get us some dinner. There's a… a McDonalds about 10-15 minutes away from the park, so I went there. When I got back… she was… she was just lying there on the floor, surrounded by blood. I- I tried to wake her up… shock, I guess, but um, then I called the cops. I just… sat there until they showed up. I think. The whole thing's kind of a blur."

"Did you see anything unusual when you got back?"

"Unusual like..?"

Lucifer responded, "Come, come, David. Anything out of place. Someone lingering around your camper, or leaving it perhaps. She was killed very shortly before you arrived, after all." He paused, "Perhaps something missing. Something… heavy, roundish, about 6-8 inches across the base, ideal for brutally murdering someone..?"

Dave stared at him in complete and utter confusion and terror. "What? No, no. I didn't see anything like that."

Chloe nodded, "Um, how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Only a few months. But we were made for each other; she's my soulmate, I swear… Was my soulmate."

"And do you know if she had any enemies? Ex-boyfriends, people in the show world, anyone at all?"

Chloe studied the man as he thought, seconds ticking by as he considered. Finally Dave shook his head. "I can't think of anyone. Of course she had a boyfriend before me, but I don't know his name. Meagan didn't talk about him. I asked, but she wouldn't answer any questions."

"Okay. Don't leave town. We might need to talk to you again."

Lucifer held up a finger as she rose to leave. "Just a moment. One more question." Chloe stopped to listen as he leaned across the table, staring deep into the unfortunate boyfriend's eyes, "Tell me David, what is it you want?"

Chloe recognized the growing panic on the man's face, as doubtless his mind started to betray him, his thoughts starting to claw at his attention, desperate to be spoken. She had to admit, it was different watching it now, knowing the man was under some supernatural hold and not just hypnotized or suggestable. It was awful.

"What is happening?!"

Lucifer grinned wolfishly. "Come on. It's all right. Just among us."

Something akin to a squeak escaped his mouth as Dave forced his gaze away. Chloe was starting to consider making her partner stop. The whole thing honestly seemed a little cruel now.

She couldn't force any words out as Lucifer continued, his dark eyes practically boring into the man's soul.

"Look at me. What is it that you truly desire?"

Dave finally looked back up, then stared into Lucifer's eyes as if hypnotized, like a mouse frozen in front of a snake. "I- I want…"

"Yes…"

"I just want Meagan back." The man collapsed sobbing on the table and Lucifer pulled back.

"Oh." He paused. "Oh. Well that's unfortunate."

* * *

Finally out of the interrogation room, Lucifer sucked in a breath, "So we're thinking he did it then, yeah?"

'_Blunt as ever.'_ She thought. She hated that she had been thinking it too. No one appeared to have motive, Dave called 911, and 20% of homicides were committed by the partner or spouse.

"I don't want to. I don't even know how he would have with the tight window we're looking at." Chloe paused, turning to face him. "The call came in at 10:28, and the ME confirmed that Meagan was killed less than ten minutes before. That isn't much of a window to hide the murder weapon, especially considering he was covered in blood in the middle of a crowded campsite."

"What about after he made the call?"

Chloe looked at him, "What, just take the gamble that he'd finish cleaning up before the cops got there? That sounds awfully risky. Besides, you did your thing on him and he seems genuinely devastated. I don't know." She paused. "He did mention a previous boyfriend."

"He mentioned the _absence _of a previous boyfriend. And honestly looked rather jealous while he did it."

Chloe sighed. "I want to go back to the showgrounds. Now that we have his story, maybe we can get someone to confirm it."

* * *

After the interview, the pair made their way back to the showgrounds. Round 2 of interviews was underway, this time trying to corroborate the boyfriend's story. Several fruitless hours later, Lucifer had suggested lunch and been kind enough to go to pick it up. While waiting Chloe was making her way through the judges and a few contestants that hadn't stayed on the grounds.

Someone had to have seen something, or have had a grudge against the victim. _Someone._

"Excuse me?" Chloe turned to see the same teenager from yesterday, green suit replaced by powder blue and leading an Irish Setter. "Can I talk to you? It's about that dead girl."

There was still no parent or lawyer in sight. "Where's your mom?"

"She's in the ring right now. Group. Look, I heard you were asking for alibis for about 10-11 that night. Is that when she died?"

Chloe wanted to know what she had to say, but she didn't know who the girl might talk to and didn't want to give out information that might help the murderer evade them. "Why do you ask?"

The girl looked nervous, "Well, I think I might have seen something."

"We interviewed your mom, and she said you two were asleep by nine."

She sighed. "My mom and I _did_ go to bed early, but I woke up. I needed to use the bathroom, so I left our camper and went to the building. When I opened the door to get back, I saw someone walking off towards the fields. He was carrying something." She paused, "I didn't think anything of it at the time, but you know, I think it must have been about the time you were asking about."

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think of it. I've never talked to the cops before… and you were just asking for directions… and your partner was really distracting. I mean, first off he's like insanely gorgeous, but also… it was kinda hard to think with him around, like my brain filled with fog or something. Honestly, it was kind of weird." She seemed to shake off whatever unpleasantness she was thinking of, replaced with a wistful smile and a giggle, "Do you think he'd let me touch his hair?.. or his abs… or maybe just smell him…"

_O..kay._ Teenage hormones and Lucifer's mojo clearly did not mix. She would be avoiding _that_ combination at all costs in future. Chloe cleared her throat, "So, you're sure it was a man?"

The girl nodded.

"Do you think you could show an officer where he went?"

She paused, "Well, I don't know where he _went_, but I could show the general direction."

Chloe would take it. She called a uniform over and told him what she had just learned, sending him off with the girl before calling dialing a number on her phone. "Hey! Ella! We've got a lead. – There's a witness, sort of. – The perp buried the murder weapon somewhere on the property. She saw him walking away with it so there's a chance it might be in that general direction. I told unis to help search. I thought you would like to know. – Yeah of course. You're welcome."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hello Everyone! Thank you so much for reading, and an extra special Welcome! to all my new follows.

I am aware that this offering is far from perfect, and for that I apologize. I have finally managed to get all this down on paper, and I feel it is more important for all of you to finally get a very, very late chapter than for it to be a masterpiece of narration and tone. The dream sequence in particular, was a much better horror scene when I first thought of it about a month ago. Anyway, I apologize again, and I hope to get the next episode's chapters out far faster than this one.

On to Reviews!

**fightboredom: **ch. 1: It was not meant to be AU. I got it wrong, and I ought to fix it, but it's a really minor detail for my story and I haven't gotten around to it yet. (I also might really like the idea. :) ch. 6: I've seen it both ways. I'll double check the show in case it's written on some visible paperwork or something (Subtitles are not always reliable in my experience) **Cathy Sullins:** Thanks! Hope you enjoy! **ShelbyT**: Haha! Yeah. I mean, you can't blame Linda for worrying; it seems like no matter what she says Lucifer will find a way to make it self-destructive. A this point she's just trying to minimize the damage and hope for the best. As for what he said… I have no idea. It could have been just some random phrase to display the language, or some secret dramatic love confession. This is Mr. Dramatic we're talking about though, so probably the latter (wink wink).

Quick guide for whether foreign language phrases are important in my writing: If I give you the words, it's deliberate and matters. We all have google translate, so I will use foreign language the same as I might use English. The only exception is entire scenes of dialogue, for example I'm still not sure how much German I will be using in the Vienna flashbacks. However, things like the INSCRIPTION ON THE WATCH are plot relevant and I will reference them without necessarily explaining. what they mean.

In the case of a fictitious language like Enochian, it will obviously be translated in-text since it isn't a translatable language. Lillim has been established in the show as Afrikaans, and Afrikaans will be used if I ever have Lillim dialogue in this fic.

**Luinlothana:** I think we discussed yours. I _swear and promise_ I will respond to your PM; I have been absolutely swamped. (By the way, I would _love_ to read your story if you wrote it.) **mackiechandler:** Muahahaha. If I am ruining my readers reputations with laughter, I have succeeded in my dastardly plot. I am so glad you like it! Read on… **JayeMaru:** Thanks! **GreyPony:** Poor Dan, he already has so much going on this season. I don't know if he could have handled seeing that hospital room on top of it all! That being said, I am still debating whether or not to have him find out later in the season so if anyone would like to weigh in on that one way or another, please give me your opinions. **Shinobi001:** Well, I'm finally updating. I am so glad that you're enjoying my plot, and I hope that I continue to please. Have a chapter. **Patougv:** Here you go!

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

Three Weeks Ago – Lux – Second night after the shooting

_Chloe could feel Lucifer wrapped around her, his hands tangled in her hair and running over her skin as she sat straddled on his lap in his bed. Her fingers reciprocated his touch, dancing over his perfect rippling muscles and eliciting soft pants and moans with every electric caress. _

_She almost sensed, rather than noticed, that something was wrong. Chloe pulled away from her partner's lips and opened her eyes, which then widened in horror, and her mouth twisted into a silent scream. The face was red, hideous and deformed, with deepset crimson eyes that burned with hellfire._

_The thing smiled at her distress with predatory amusement. "Frightened?" It paused, as if to savor the moment, "What did you think I was? Is a pretty face really so blinding?"_

_Chloe screamed again and tried to run. Instead she felt the monster's strong arms wrapped around her. He picked her up like she weighed nothing and carried her back._

_Somehow, in the often nonsensical way of dreams, she could no longer run. Moreover, she didn't even question his words when the creature spoke again. "Come along, Detective. Time to go."_

"_Where?" Chloe asked, still in a fog. She had a vague sense that something was wrong, but no will or ability to act on it. She received no response._

_Somehow they seemed to be heading down, on a long sloping hill such as might be near a river or lake. And indeed, that is what they finally came to; a lake of flames stretching as far as the eye could see._

_Chloe followed him, still in a trance. She didn't even hesitate as Lucifer slowly waded into the burning lake, and obediently followed as his hand gently pulled her deeper and deeper._

_By the time she came to herself it was too late. She screamed in terror and pain as the flames climbed higher and higher, and no response reached her ears save the crackling flames and the familiar laughter of the monster that had once been her friend, triumphant in her eternal torment._

Chloe woke up screaming, thrashing wildly in the damp yellow sheets.

_No. No. No. No. NO!_

She was surrounded by darkness, trapped and blind, and for one awful moment she believed herself still in Hell. Chloe stared about, still in utter terror, as every corner of the room manifested shadows, monsters, and demons, and her still half-asleep mind blared danger and adrenaline.

_PANIC!_

She heard a crash and some cursing, then a wild figure careened into the doorway a few seconds later.

"Detective! Are you all right?"

Chloe could only stare at him through tears of relief. Lucifer was standing there, disheveled but alert, dressed in a pair of red silk pajama bottoms. His wings cast a soft light around him, faintly illuminating the room and the worried expression on his face.

He was safe. He was okay. He hadn't turned into a monster. And on observing her distress he climbed onto the bed to comfort her.

* * *

Lucifer awoke to a scream, pure terror and horror condensed into one awful sound.

_Chloe._

He urgently jumped out of bed and cursed as one wing stretched to the wall and smashed a vase to the floor. He wasn't yet accustomed to keeping the horrible unwieldy things out all the time and his spatial awareness was still terrible.

Quickly recovering from the disaster, he bolted towards the common room. Chloe was in danger. She needed him.

Horrible scenarios raced through his head in the seconds it took to reach her. Maybe she had hurt herself, maybe one of his other siblings had gone the way of Uriel and hurt her. Maybe Maze was through talking and was taking more concrete steps to revenge herself on him.

He half-expected to find his human sitting in a pool of her own blood, or with a knife to her neck. Instead he found her sitting upright on the bed, staring warily into the darkness with the sheets clutched in her hands, shaking and weeping in terror.

The angel's heart melted and he climbed on the bed to gather her into an embrace.

Chloe fell apart at his touch. She sobbed into his shoulder as Lucifer carefully held her, wrapping his arms and wings around them both. Humans appeared to find his stupid feathery burdens comforting, after all (Linda had said something about the appendages being producers of sera-something, some brain chemical, but he hadn't been paying much attention at the time). At least, Chloe seemed to like them; most humans couldn't seem to stop screaming at the proof of a non-human. Still, though, as the seconds passed she stopped shaking and her terrified desperate sobs calmed to normal crying. Lucifer just sat there, carefully cradling her, one arm around her delicate shoulders and the other hand stroking through her hair, whispering soothingly with her head under his chin.

"It's all right. It's over now."

The fragile creature didn't respond. She only clutched closer to him as she continued her slow decent to calm.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Chloe shook her head.

They were silent. Lucifer wracked his brain, trying to think of something to help.

"Would you like something to drink?" He finally asked minutes later. Consumption would be a convenient distraction, and she didn't seem likely to sleep anymore anyway.

"Yeah, sure, I guess. Not alcohol though."

"Certainly." In the end he made them both hot chocolate, despite the summer heat, and as they sat down at the kitchenette counter Chloe was good enough to ignore that he spiked his with more laudanum (His previous painkillers had largely worn off and the pain was becoming unbearable again).

"Tell me about Charlotte." Chloe finally asked out of the blue.

Lucifer paused, studying her face for her intentions before responding the why he had promised he would. "What do you want to know?"

"Just tell me the truth. Who was she? Because she wasn't your step-mother." Chloe continued, responding to his dismissive face. "It's just… right now I think you might have lied to me, and that hurts, Lucifer. That's not the way I thought our relationship worked."

Lucifer turned to her earnestly, staring deeply and sincerely into her eyes, "This is… a very complicated, very long story. Do you really want to start this at-" He glanced at the clock "-one in the morning?"

The human shrugged. "We don't have anywhere to be tomorrow."

Lucifer sighed, "Fair enough." There was a long silence as he collected his memories and planned the story.

"To understand, we have to go back a very, very long time, to before the start of the universe. I mentioned my Mum before, correct? Her disastrous marriage with my Dad?"

Chloe nodded. "Killed the dinosaurs. Yep."

"Yes… Well, their relationship didn't exactly improve after I was sent to Hell. In fact Mum attempted to exterminate humans a number of times (So I'm told anyway) and in the end Dad kicked her out too…

Lucifer told her everything: How Malcolm stabbed Amenadiel, nearly resulting in the angel's death and giving Mum the opportunity she needed to escape, NOT how he found out (Lucifer said he heard about it and left it at that, conveniently bypassing his own death and deal with God), how Charlotte was actually murdered and went to Hell, and how the wayward being found Charlotte's recently vacated body and possessed it.

He plowed on through, explaining how Mum became a threat to humans as time went on, and how she even led humans to an ancient celestial weapon that they couldn't handle in a bid to get God's attention (Again conveniently bypassing Uriel and everything that happened related to that). This particular item became a bit sidetracked.

"You stole a murder weapon from a crime scene?! Lucifer, we looked for that dagger for weeks!"

"I apologize, Detective, but I had little choice. I could not risk the Blade falling in the wrong hands! After all, Daniel nearly murdered me over pudding! What was I supposed to do? Let it remain in human hands, continuing it's path of carnage until the planet lay in waste?!"

Chloe looked frustrated, but didn't really have a viable retort. "Just talk to me next time you want to steal evidence, please?"

"Now that you know the truth, I can assure you that you will never be left out of information again."

She rolled her eyes. "So noble of you."

Lucifer continued, through how he finally banished the celestial to another universe along with the Blade, and how Charlotte returned to her body, with a second chance at life.

"So you see," He finished, "Charlotte's death wasn't meaningless at all. She managed what no other soul has ever done: redeemed herself after going to Hell." He paused, "Granted, she wasn't actually _in _Hell at the time, so that particular record still stands at zero, but… she did well. She is in Heaven now as a direct result of her efforts."

Chloe studied him, thinking, digesting the story, before she finally replied, "Is that why crime scenes don't bother you?"

"What?"

"Well," She paused, "As far as you're concerned, the person isn't there. The victim isn't dead, they've just… moved. Like Charlotte. You talk about her like she just moved to Russia or something. Sure we won't see her again, but you know, she's alive and happy, just someplace else. We see… a person, you just see a body."

Lucifer nodded hesitantly. "Yes… I suppose so. Although I think Hell may have contributed just a little."

* * *

Present Day – The Precinct

"Do you actually need to eat?"

Lucifer suddenly looked up from his liberated chips. Chloe would say 'stolen,' but what was a bag of vending machine chips _really_ when weighed against the value of his incredible, selfless, _unpaid_ service to the LAPD? His partner was going over paperwork: suspect/witness files, interview transcripts, phone records, etc. and she peered at him disapprovingly from over the tottering pile.

"What?"

"Well, I wouldn't think, you know, that an immortal cosmic being would need to… eat…" Chloe's eyes raked over her partner observingly "or breathe… or… _Do_ you get hungry?"

He shrugged, "It's more of a habit really. Eight years on Earth, I was bound to pick up a few. And food tastes good."

Chloe flashed him a brief smile over her paperwork. _Victory. _Her instant return to stoic professionalism in no way dampened his spirits. More than three weeks after her realization, every smile was still an accomplishment, another hard-won milestone on the road to normalcy.

The woman appeared to come to some sort of decision, although Lucifer had been unaware of any dilemma. She looked back up at him, her paperwork abandoned, her hands clasped in front of her determinedly, and an awkward expression on her face. "I got an email."

Her partner grinned amusedly, "Really? What for? Oh, let me guess, penis enlargement pills. No, wait, a Nigerian prince needs your help." Despite his happy chortle, Chloe's face remained serious.

"It was about you. I got a response from a grad student. Shess doing her master's thesis on one of your trips."

"Oh? Lovely, which one?"

Chloe hesitated, doubt and what he thought might be fear flashing through her eyes, "I'd… rather… look into it all by myself… if you don't mind. I don't even know for sure if it's you yet. I just thought you should know."

Lucifer knew why she didn't want him involved. It was an investigation, and she needed to stay impartial. She needed to keep the suspect from contaminating her conclusions with explanation and excuses.

He was a suspect. That hurt more than expected. Especially considering he had given her permission to look into his past in the first place.

The woman seemed to sense his discomfort, "You know, I don't have to respond, if you don't want me to. It's okay, I promise, if you… want me to leave the past alone…"

"No, no." He hurriedly interjected. "It's quite alright. Hell, I told you to, right? Go ahead, research away. I look forward to hearing what you find." He knew his reasons for suggesting it in the first place, and they were unchanged. Chloe was an investigator by nature. Regardless of what he said, regardless of anything that happened between them, those awful stories of the 'Devil' would sit in the back of her mind, causing her endless fear and distress until she could dismiss them herself, especially after Cain. Let her dig, let her determine his innocence for herself and they could finally move on.

"Perhaps I should offer her an interview. I would be happy to help with her thesis."

Chloe smirked. "Oh yeah, sure. That sounds reasonable. The dead guy she's writing a paper on calling her up." Lucifer chuckled as she continued sarcastically. "You know, when I was writing my Civil War paper in tenth grade, what I wouldn't have given to hear from Abraham Lincoln. That wouldn't have been suspicious or weird at all."

Lucifer grinned and chuckled in amusement. "Very well. I suppose I see your point. She will continue her research unmolested… although you are robbing her of her best resource."

Another smile rewarded his quip, and the angel inwardly cheered. Two smiles in one conversation; it wasn't quite a new record, but it was close.

Chloe leaned forward, still smirking. "I think she'll survive."

Ella appeared on the stair landing, flanked by unis and forcing a triumphant entrance. "Yep! We came, we saw, we kicked its butt!" The forensics expert dismissed her minions and strutted over to Chloe's desk.

"Whoo! Who's the best? Who is it?" Ella threw up her hands, "Up top, come on!" She waited until they both high fived her then continued. "I found it! Took forever, and I had to hike all over that park in the heat with my boys Jepson and Marley, but tell me I don't deliver!" She pulled a large ziplock bag out from somewhere, holding it up triumphantly. "Booyah! One murder weapon!"

Chloe jumped up to grab it. "You found it?!" Excitement turned to confusion as she turned the bag around in her hands. "Hang on, what is this thing? Is that a… bone?"

Ella nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, beef knucklebone. They sell them for dogs."

Lucifer broke in, "So, Meagan was murdered with a… dog bone." The concept sounded ridiculous.

Ella took the bag back, gesturing for explanation and emphasis. "It has blood on it; probably the vic's, but we won't know for sure until we test it. Right size, shape, and honestly, weirdly dense for a bone. I would guess… crime of passion. Maybe an argument. The camper was a packed mess, the killer probably just picked up whatever was closest without really looking at what it was."

Chloe nodded, thinking, "How far out from the campsite would you say it was buried?"

"What do you mean?"

Chloe had been fiddling absently with a pen as they spoke. Now she put it down. "It took fifteen minutes for the police to arrive after the 911 call. Timing from the call, not the murder, do you think someone could have left the scene, buried the bone, and been back at the campsite before the police got there?"

Ella paused, "Gee, I don't know. I guess maybe, if he was fast."

Chloe nodded. "Check that for prints. I specifically need to know if there are anyone's prints outside of Meagan and Dave."

"Sure thing! That is kinda my job after all." Ella's smile never wavered as she happily walked off toward her lab.

* * *

Ella's tests came back a few hours later and confirmed what they already suspected: The blood was Meagan's, and the only prints were from the couple. With the new evidence, unis were sent out for an arrest. Dave eventually broke down and confessed in interrogation.

He was jealous, and sometimes violent, though he still insisted that he never hit her. The night of the murder Meagan was texting, and they fought over whether she was cheating (phone records showed she was texting a female friend). The fight escalated, and in the heat of things, Dave happened to stumble over the bone left on the floor.

"I barely remember what happened. It's kind of a blur. I… I picked it up and just started hitting her, over and over. I was just…so angry. Afterwards, I called the cops, hid it, then raced back to the camper before they got there. You gotta believe me, I never wanted this to happen. I loved Meagan. I… love Meagan. I just want her back. Oh God, I just want her back." Dave broke down sobbing.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you _killed her._" Lucifer replied coldly.

* * *

With the case over and the killer in custody Chloe found herself back at the penthouse, staring at her closed laptop. Lucifer was downstairs, handling his business, and she had run out of excuses not to look at the email. Strange, how difficult it was to take that final step, even though she was already quite certain what she would see.

Shaking off her brief hesitation, she opened the laptop, brought up the email, and clicked on the attachment. A photo of a painting appeared on her screen.

Chloe stared at the vision before her. It was one thing to academically know someone was immortal, and quite another to _see_ it.

The portrait was full length, a man with a cane standing in front of a deep red curtain, and on zooming in on the face the man's identity was undeniable. Whoever the artist was, he was remarkably talented; the figure looked about to step off the canvas. Lucifer stood, as cocky and charismatic as ever, the corners of his mouth twisted up in a flirtatious smirk with a come-hither spark in his eye. His suit was some sort of deep blue brocade or silk, a small checked pattern woven into the fabric and visible where the light hit it. His vest was silver cloth woven with a floral design, more elaborate embroidery on the pockets. Lace frothed about his neck and cascaded out of his cuffs, hanging delicately around the silver head of his cane. _Extravagant_ didn't begin to touch it.

Chloe examined the item closer and snorted. _Of course_ the head of his cane was a snake. Of course it was, the dramatic bastard.

He was wearing his familiar onyx ring, and the pocketwatch she had found in his closet hung from his vest pocket; she could just barely make out the huntsmen when she zoomed in.

The coat was embroidered with a thick border of vines and flowers, carefully wrought in vivid crimsons and greens, with a thin chain of gold thread around the edge. Looking closer she could see more snakes twisting through the foliage. Lucifer evidently had a theme going and wasn't about to let it go. Maybe everything he owned back then was snake themed.

He was ruthlessly clean-shaven; strange to realize since she had never thought of him as having a beard, and his hair was different too, though it was less noticeable than his lack of stubble. His curls were still cropped in the front and on the top of his head, longer than it was now and fluffy around his face, but it was long in the back and pulled into a ponytail with a wide black ribbon.

Eighteenth century mullet, she thought to herself. It would be prime blackmail material if anyone believed his identity. How Lucifer still looked utterly magnificent wearing a pile of satin and lace, with knee breeches and white stockings, with a damn _mullet and ponytail, _she had no idea.

But holy hell, he took her breath away.

Chloe forced herself to stop drooling. Lucifer's beauty wasn't the point. This was about determining whether he was trustworthy and looking at the situation objectively. Positive ID made, decision reached, Chloe sucked in a determined breath, returned to the email and hit 'reply,'

_Ms. Grant,_

_This is exactly what I was looking for, and I would be very interested in knowing anything you have found in the course of your research. Any information would be greatly appreciated._

_Many Thanks,_

_Chloe Decker_


	10. Chapter 10 - Let's Ruin This

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thank you to everyone who's reading this, and special thanks to everyone who followed, faved, and reviewed. I love you guys!

I am so so sorry for the delayed update. This semester has been crazy.

**Cathy Sullins: **Thanks! **JayeMaru:** I'm glad you liked it. Read on! **GreyPony:** Don't worry, I have the plot all mapped out and I am determined to see it through to the end. **Vivleen:** Your wish is my command. Here's an update.

I do not own Lucifer or its characters. We have a few characters this "episode" that are mine, but for the most part rights are reserved to Warner Bros. and Netflix.

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

Chapter 5 – Let's Ruin This

While Chloe sat in the penthouse, having an existential crisis while staring at a computer screen, the City of Angel's resident archangel was downstairs in an empty bar.

Lux wasn't open yet. It was still twilight outside, too early for most of the hardcore partiers that made up most of the club's clientele. It was also late enough that the staff had already finished preparing the main room for opening and had left to finish as much stocking in the back room as they could.

It was the calm before the storm. Just him, glittering cut glass, gleaming dark wood, expensive alcohol, and the wonderful instrument calling him from the center of the room.

Lucifer smiled quietly as he poured himself a drink and wandered over to sit on the bench. His hands rested on the keys, then the opening strains of "Heart and Soul" permeated the bar.

Life was good. He no longer had to fudge the truth with the most important human in his life, she had (mostly) accepted it, and Linda seemed to think their relationship could even progress further. Amenadiel was gone, of course, and with him Lucifer's last remaining real connection to his family, but he was getting used to that. Didn't even hurt anymore. Much. Come on, how many times over the millenia would he have killed to get Amenadiel to leave him alone? This was a dream come true.

_He and Chloe had a chance._

An unexpected, unmistakable _*ca-lick*_ near his ear brought the carefree song to a sudden stop.

"Well." Lucifer said, always determined to retain the high ground of imperturbability, especially when he had a gun to his head. "I know some people have strong opinions about music, but this seems a bit extreme." Lucifer weighed the situation…

_Chloe was upstairs, but the penthouse ought to be far enough for invulnerability._

_Chloe was unarmed, and unaware of the situation. He needed to keep them out of there._

_The safe was in the penthouse, so the previous point might prove difficult._

…Then traveled his gaze up the gun to stare into the masked face of the man holding it. "I'd tell you we're closed, but um, I don't think it would do much good." The angel's eyes flicked from one anonymous gunman to another, counting, planning. "So, what do you want? Abba? Poison?.. Nickleback? God, I hope not."

"Revenge." The overly dramatic voice sounded familiar, and he quickly placed it.

Lucifer grinned. "Oh! Mr. Said Out Bitch! How lovely to see you! How are the kids? Are there kids?"

Already exposed, the man went ahead and took off his mask. He then shoved the gun further in Lucifer's face. "Shut up! I almost died because of you!"

There is a strange phenomenon in armed confrontations: that the more unbothered and cool the unarmed party is the more flustered and panicky the armed party will slowly become. As Lucifer nonchalantly stood, walked to the bar and poured himself another drink, all while entirely ignoring the gun, the two henchmen glanced worriedly at each other in confusion. By the time he reached the bar the number of guns pointed at him had increased from one to three.

"Don't be dramatic. You were driving a stolen Brink's truck full of cash. I kept you from going to prison forever."

The angel casually leaned backwards on the bar and sipped his drink as if nothing at all was going on.

"You left me for dead in the desert! It got so bad, I started hallucinating! I remember you having wings!"

Lucifer smirked devilishly at him, eyes glittering. "And what makes you think you were wrong?"

Mr. Said Out Bitch, ever reasonable, gestured with his gun and stepped closer. "Look, I don't know what you're on, but I don't care. Now, I've done my research on you; you're loaded. Heard you got a safe somewhere just filled with cash. Now pay up!"

The gun was getting annoyingly close again. _He really shouldn't go around waving that thing in people's faces._

The creature's hand shot out and bent the barrel, rendering the weapon useless. "I am afraid your research may have been a bit… inadequate."

The robber's mouth dropped open and his eyes turned to saucers.

The angel made his eyes flash red, just for a moment, but those two things were enough. The other men panicked, emptied their guns into the nonchalant figure, and then the room exploded into chaos.

The henchmen wondered just what sort of job this was, and why their employer had said this would be easy. The apparent madman seemed to be everywhere at once: pummeling them mercilessly, throwing them into walls, and ignoring any counter blows as if he was invulnerable. The bullets had found their mark, that much was clear from the holes in his shirt, but he showed no ill effects, not even blood. He took little more notice of two large armed thugs than he would of a couple of flies buzzing annoyingly around his head.

When the fight ended the unfortunate thief was sitting against the base of the bar. His attempted victim turned attacker loomed over him, adjusting his cufflinks, somehow made even more terrifying by how unruffled he seemed.

"I didn't hallucinate, did I?" The poor man practically wept.

"No." Lucifer cocked his head, "What should I do with you? I mean, normally I would just let you go, but you put the Detective in danger. So, I could turn you over to her, let you finally pay for all your crimes. But is that enough? There's torture of course… thumbscrews, maybe, or just hang you by your drawers from the Golden Gate Bridge. Maze could use a new chew toy-"

The man practically squeaked in fear. "The cop! The cop sounds good! Hey man, its okay, I'll go to prison!"

"What the hell happened in here?" A familiar, businesslike but confused voice sounded behind him. Chloe stood near the stairs, gun in hand, staring at the wreckage of the room and the assorted unconscious or groaning criminals.

The destruction's author flashed her a cheerful grin. "Hello Detective!" He motioned toward the miscreant on the floor. "We're being robbed."

Chloe could only stare as her partner continued his insane babbling.

"You two haven't met, have you? How rude of me. Mr. Said Out Bitch, this is Detective Decker. Detective, this is the man I told you about; the one who was kind enough to lend me a ride out of the desert." Her gaze traveled down to the person in question, a terrified black man who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

_No… not a ghost… a devil._ She thought.

"Lucifer, what did you do to them?" She couldn't help her accusatory tone.

"ME?" Her partner whined. "They're the ones with guns!"

The quivering heap yelled, "Listen, man! You don't have to do this! I- I'm just a thief! I'll never come near here again! Just please don't kill me!.." He trailed off into sobs while Lucifer eyed him with confusion.

"Kill you? Why would I do that? Of course, we _are_ supposed to open in less than an hour and this place is an absolute-"

Lucifer glanced back over and saw that Chloe was staring at his chest in horror. He looked down and scoffed in annoyance, "Bloody hell! And there's another shirt wrecked. I swear, the criminal population in this city has no concern for my tailor."

He looked back over at Chloe. The horror and fear were rapidly sliding toward repulsed confusion.

_Act natural. Be caring and non-threatening. Show her nothing has changed._ Linda had said. Well, he could do that and more. He could be the kindest, sweetest, least-threatening person to ever walk the Earth.

He sighed. "Never mind. You were just trying to kill me, which is… fair enough… so no hard feelings, all right?" He pulled the man to his feet, making sure Chloe was watching as he did so. "What's your name? No, sorry. I understand if you don't want to tell me that. What do you want? What is your deepest desire?" His gaze drew the man in. Seconds later the thief spoke. "I- I just want to be out of debt."

Lucifer nodded, smiling. "Yes… We've covered that before. Anything else?"

"I don't want to go to jail."

The smile dropped. "Really?" The angel huffed in disappointment, "You have no imagination. Well all right, it's granted. Come with me." He lead the man off toward the stairs, then paused on the first step. "Oh, Detective. Could you inform the staff of the mess? The door's on the left behind the curtain. Thank you so much."

Business dealt with, he half-led half-dragged the terrified man up the stairs to the elevator. There was more than enough in the safe to easily give the man what he wanted.

_See, Detective? Nothing to worry about._

* * *

_Vienna, 1760_

The Holy Roman Empire, as Voltaire once said, was neither Holy, nor Roman, nor an Empire. Such was certainly true by the year of our Lord 1760. The German states were little more than a loose collection of small kingdoms, presided over by an Empress who while brilliant and coldly practical, had spent her entire reign embroiled in wars over her succession, particularly with Prussia, even to the point of pawning her own jewelry for weapons and supplies.

The man who would one day become Johann Freimann was born on a small estate in Bavaria, to a 15-year-old black slave girl who worked as a servant there, herself the daughter and granddaughter of slaves. The father was the family's teenage son, although due to familial resemblance his father was immediately blamed, and despite all protests to the contrary the wife insisted on the woman's removal. She was accordingly sold and raised her son on another, slightly larger estate further south.

Twenty-eight years later, that boy now belonged to one Baron Alexander Wallner von Unterfeld. He was a fairly low-ranking noble in the royal court, though wealthy and well-connected enough to still be received by most of the 'right' people in Vienna. Those that did not receive him cited a terrible, unnerving aura about him, an unsettling feeling that they simply could not shake. Those that did agreed about the awful feeling, but "Well, we have no reason _not_ to receive him." followed, and the slightly odd rules of polite society won out again.

Wallner rented a house outside the city for when he was at court. Privacy was precious to him, and it gave some space for hunting, riding out, and other opportunities for social networking. Tonight was the first time Johann had been off the property for some weeks. He had been hired out to work a small assembly at the townhouse of one of his master's friends. His master would insist on pocketing his wages, of course, but it was time enough for his purposes.

Servants gossip. This is known. So, in fact, do good polite people with nothing better to do than to concern themselves with the doings of their neighbors. Between them all, one might as well attempt to bag up the wind for later use as to prevent news from spreading. Through this intricate spider's web Johann had heard whispers of a recent arrival to the city, a strange man who could do anything, make any dream a reality. He had heard other rumors as well, of course, terrible tales of madness and depraved acts, but he chose to ignore them. Rumor would make a monster of even the most virtuous of people, once it got into the wrong hands.

So he stood by the wall, perfectly still in his borrowed uniform, doing as he had been hired while surveilling the milling guests. He knew the man as soon as he saw him, and Johann took the opportunity of his forced inaction to study him.

The man was of grand stature large despite his slim build, taller than very nearly all of the other men in the room, with an air of confidence and rakish charisma that drew eyes and people as moths might to a flame. He wore pink satin with gold trim, copious amounts of lace, and his own hair. One could practically sense the perfume and scented powder that doubtless permeated the dandy's every pore.

Johann thought it strange. He would have thought the man nothing more than a hopeless fop had he not heard the stories. As he watched the man stepped intimately close to a young woman and whispered smilingly in her ear. She laughed flirtatiously and playfully struck his chest with her fan.

A voice dragged Johann's attention from the pair, and he spent the next quarter hour or so refreshing the drinks table. When he was again idle, he had lost sight of his goal.

The young man scanned the crowd, growing increasingly worried as the seconds passed. What would he do if he failed? He could not go back unsuccessful. It would kill him, he was certain.

How in hell could such a gaudy giant disappear?

At long last he spotted his quarry, making his way discreetly toward a side room. Johann silently slid after him.

Hesitantly he peeked inside. The man was alone, leaning one hand on the mantel over the fireplace and drinking, eyes fixed on the dancing flames. Johann slipped in and closed the door. The fact that the man suddenly seemed quite dour mattered not at all. He needed to take this chance.

Accordingly he straightened, summoning his courage. "Herr D'Etoile?"

The man didn't even turn around. "Yes? I apologize if I was not supposed to be here. I assumed guests had a certain amount of freedom, and I desired a moment alone." As if in need of a dramatic gesture, he downed the remainder of the glass.

"No, no, sir. You are welcome to go where you please, I assure you. I am here on my own account." Johann suddenly felt quite awkward. The utter absurdity of the situation was hitting him. Who was he, really, to bother a person so far above him? Let alone request his aid?

_It can do no harm to try. _

"I… have heard that you are the man to ask when one runs out of options."

That seemed to gain a response. Lucifer D'Etoile turned around, eying him appraisingly.

It was the man's gaze that solidified his decision. To Johann's surprise it was appraising and idly curious, but he was quite accustomed to assessing others' moods, and there was no condescension or malice in it. Disinterested as it was, it was a look one might give an equal rather than a dog or a piece of furniture.

"So, what is it you want from me?" The dandified Frenchman was surprisingly serious and quiet. "I think I can guess." His gaze hadn't yet broken, and there was still neither pity nor charity in those dark depths.

Johann hastened to speak lest he lose all confidence, "It is not for myself, you must understand."

D'Etoile had dropped into a chair nearby, and seemed to be regretting the loss of his drink. "Go on."

"There is a child- an orphan. My master holds his indenture." He paused, but the other man showed no signs of interrupting. "The man is a monster, sir. He is evil incarnate. It is not so bad for me, you see; he has me for life and wants my labor for the whole of it, so he dares not mistreat me too badly, but the children-" Johann had never spoken of any of it to another soul. Somehow it was simultaneously impossible to speak of and impossible to stop speaking once he had begun. He looked away, unable to make eye contact while speaking of the horrors he had seen in that house. "He only has them until twenty-one, so they are expendable to him. He even brags of his ability to time their death to the moment they reach the lane after their contract ends. Boys all, blond haired and blue eyed, never under five or over thirteen. Once they are older he loses interest. Ernst is the latest. He was a sweet boy, sir, when he came to us a year ago. His parents died of a fever. I feel for him an he were my own." Johann paused, voice still full of long suppressed hate and fear spilling out after long years of silence. "I fear for him. That… animal… beats him and starves him. I do what I can to help. God knows I have scars enough to prove it, but I have little power. The bastard even-" He stopped again, and his voice dropped to little more than a horrified whisper. "I have reason to believe he even takes the boy to his bed."

He paused again, allowing the words to settle in the silent room. At last Johann spoke again, now subdued and quietly supplicating. "I beg you, Herr D'Etoile. If you have even a crumb of Christian charity in your being, help me. Recently, Ernst has even ceased to speak. I fear he shall soon die if no help comes. Truly, If the Devil walks the Earth, it is in the form of Alexander Wallner."

There was a strange slight twitch of amusement in D'Etoile's face, then silence resumed. The man's gaze was unreadable, and Johann could only hope he was considering his case. At last he spoke. "If you desire your master dead, I should warn you I don't do murder. However, I shall happily render him a bedridden mute. Do you have any specific requests for bones I should break?"

"No, no." Johann hastily amended. "I do not wish anyone hurt… Not even that whoresson bastard." The juxtaposition of casual disinterest with utter viciousness in the man's statement had been terrifying, but he was still unable to fully keep the deep abiding rage from his own voice. "In all honesty, if I thought it would do any good I would have killed him myself long ago."

"Then I fail to understand exactly what it is you desire from me."

Johann paused. It somehow felt more forward to state his request straight out. He had hoped D'Etoile would come to it himself, and further elaboration would not be necessary. "Perhaps… you could purchase the boy's indenture."

The other man seemed to consider this. At least, Johann hoped he was considering it. The odd blank mask had returned to his face and his thoughts were entirely hidden.

"You understand, this is not free. I do not give handouts."

Johann's heart sank. "How much will it cost? I have no money."

"Not money. A favor. A debt to be collected when I choose. _Anything_ I choose."

The man looked serious but Johann could have laughed in relief. "Is that all? Then I gladly accept it. There is no price you could ask that would sink my life to further depths than it now sits."

"Very well." Then the man said something unexpected. "Is there anyone else? You have told me of yourself and the child. Does this cretin own any other people?"

Johann shook his head. "No. There was one other indenture, a man, but he died last month."

D'Etoile nodded. "I understand. Now, go back to your master. Speak to no one; give no indications. I will come as soon as I can; there are arrangements that must be made." He had risen as he spoke, and now held out one aristocratic hand, "Please, call me Lucifer."

* * *

Three days later a sleek ebony coach pulled up in front of the stately country home. It was pulled by a fine matched pair of black horses and driven by what was at present an incredibly recent hire.

Lucifer could drive himself, of course. He could have ridden over even, and enjoyed the journey far more. However, today was about status. Symbols such as the coach, the driver, his clothes, his money, and his title and family name (had he had such), all established his power over his target.

He did not feel half so prepared as he would have liked. The last three days had been a flurry of activity and even so he had felt as if he was failing Johann somehow every day that he still failed to come. Only a couple of weeks in the city, most of it spent knee-deep in debauchery and recovery from Hell, Lucifer's network of favors was hardly begun. His investigations had suffered for it. Still, Wallner had a gambling problem, was deep in debt, and had as yet been successful in hiding his perversions. That would have to do.

The angel was smiling and cheerful, despite the terrible business he was here on. Two weeks out of Hell, he was feeling light and free as the proverbial bird released from its cage. Mazikeen was watching Hell, Amenadiel didn't seem to have yet realized he was gone, and this deal had shown him something else: He could stay. Oh, not forever of course. But this deal would require time, and accordingly he had already rented a townhouse in the city and hired enough staff to set up the place. The private room at a local inn where he had been staying was no place to bring a child after all. It would be so easy to stay here in this beautiful city, surrounded by life, glittering humans, and the greatest music on Earth. No brothers to remind him of his "responsibilities," no demons he had to posture for… perhaps this crisp winter day could mark a new beginning.

Lucifer walked up and rapped on the door with his cane. Shortly after it was opened by a familiar face. Johann sagged against the door on recognizing him, "_Gott_ sie dank. I thought you would never come."

Lucifer pushed past him through the narrow doorway. "I always keep my promises." He turned back, "Now, where is the Baron?"

The other man spoke as he closed the door, "I shall bring him to you. Might I take your coat?"

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

Johann accepted his heavy caped greatcoat and tricorn, then escorted him into a small sitting room nearby. "I shall return presently."

And indeed he did. A few minutes later Lucifer heard quiet one-sided arguing from the hallway, with Johann repeatedly apologizing for the 'intrusion' and an angry unidentified voice clearly unaware of how well his words traveled.

As they entered Lucifer rose. A person he assumed was Wallner, not a particularly short man himself, froze for a second on seeing the elegant giant.

The angel simply smiled at him. Humans often found his height rather startling on first meeting and he was well accustomed to it. If the man felt intimidated, all the better. "I don't believe we have been introduced." He bowed politely. "Lucifer D'Etoile au Matin, at your service." He exchanged a look with Johann, then waited for him to leave, as if he desired a private meeting.

Alexander Wallner was a tall man for his time, large and intimidating with a rather heavy face and course manner that Lucifer did not doubt had held him back a bit from advancement at court. His plain brown broadcloth and wig contrasted oddly with the vision of silk and lace across from him, and an unfamiliar observer might have been quite surprised to learn that these two men were from the same strata of society.

Wallner did not seem particularly pleased with the fop in his sitting room. "I was not expecting visitors, so I shall do away with pleasantries. What is your purpose here?"

"Very well." Lucifer replied. "I shall get to the point. I should like to purchase your slaves." He pointedly ignored the shocked expression on the other man's face. "You have two, I believe. An indentured child and a black."

"Perhaps you have been misinformed. They are not for sale."

_Think again._ Lucifer pulled a large leather pouch from his coat, allowing it to clink pleasantly. "Oh I am certain we can come to an arrangement. How much would you like for them?"

He saw Wallner's eyes move inexorably to the guldens. He needed money.

* * *

Johann's purchase was negotiated fairly easily, for well over the market price. Honestly, money was no object, the man could have demanded any price and received it, but in Lucifer's experience negotiation made humans more inclined to sell.

Lucifer sent Johann ahead on a spare horse he had brought for the purpose, with assurances that the offspring would be retrieved. He did not want the man to be there if Wallner changed his mind.

The difficulty came with the child. The pile of filth masquerading as a man who called himself Alexander Wallner wished desperately to cling to his victim, even when Lucifer pointed out that "what do you care? Such unfortunates can be had for little more than the price of transport."

"He will not talk. Your reputation is not in danger." Lucifer said. "After all, I am already quite aware of your… proclivities. Why do you resist? Go on, take the money."

In the end he twisted the man's arm. "Very well, you leave me no choice. You can either take this, more than enough money to cover all your debts, or I shall ruin you. I am aware of what you do in this place, of your gambling and your perversions, and by the time I am through you shall have to run to the deepest jungles of the Americas to find someone who does not know. And once you do, I shall come behind you and ensure everyone there hears of you."

Wallner raised a feeble protest. "I have heard the rumors. We are alike, you and I. You're as depraved as I am. Two sinners, alike in measure."

Lucifer made clear what he thought of that with a snarl, "I never preyed on children. I have never lain with anyone who did not want it. We are not the same."

In the end intimidation worked where bribery had not. Or more accurately, intimidation worked in conjunction with bribery where bribery alone had not. They signed ownership papers and it was finally done, with nothing left but to collect the child. Lucifer insisted on doing it himself.

A few servants eagerly escorted him to the kennels and urged him toward one of the runs. A small cherubic boy huddled naked in a corner of the pen, curled into himself in a desperate bid for warmth. His long golden curls hug limp and dirty about his sunken cheeks. Manacles encircled the child's emaciated wrists, leading to a chain bolted into the wall that was clearly adapted from use for a dog. Lucifer guessed the boy was about nine years of age, though he looked much younger. The angel forced himself to suppress his utter rage at the horrific sight. He settled for turning back and fixing the humans with a withering glare intense enough to make its subjects shrink back in fear and shame.

He thought someone reached a key out to him as he knelt by the boy's side, but he ignored it, choosing instead to simply snap the chains with his bare hands as easily as if they had been made of thread. The fine jacket was shed and wrapped around the freezing naked child, then the Devil gently lifted him into his arms and carried him through the gate. Ernst curled in his arms and clutched the jacket tightly around himself, his wasted body strangely drowned in the garment.

As he lifted the boy into the coach, Lucifer noted with alarm how terribly light he was. He was no expert on human offspring, but he was fairly certain they were meant to be heavier than this. Ah well, such things could be mended easily enough, once the child had food and care.

With Ernst safely in the coach and Johann well away, there remained but one issue still to resolve. Accordingly Lucifer, in weskit and shirtsleeves but not minding the cold a bit, made his way over to the former slave owner.

"Might I have a word with you alone?"

At Wallner's acquiescence Lucifer led them to a small copse nearby. Once in a secluded location behind some trees, he flashed his devil face.

Wallner startled back, eyes wide with terrified realization. "_Heilige Mutter Gottes_, you're… you are really…"

Back to normal, the creature grinned, "Yes, I am. And you're a monster."

"What?"

"You prey on children, slaves; people in your power who can't fight back. You are truly evil." He paused, holding up his cane and regarding it pensively. "There is only one thing keeping me from bludgeoning you to a bloody pulp and then snapping your spine like a twig. Do you know what that is?"

The man shook his head, still staring, terrified.

Lucifer continued. "Johann asked me not to hurt you. And I don't break deals." He paused. "But I'll see you again, someday. And when you're sitting there, naked and starving, chained in the dark, used every day by beings too powerful for you to resist, I want you to remember every boy you kept in that same torment. Remember their terror, their pain." He let his eyes go red, burning with anger and hellfire, and he reveled in the way the other man cowered back. "Perhaps I shall give you to Mazikeen. She deserves a new toy after how well she's been looking after the place."

"Please… please…"

Point made, punishment dealt, Lucifer stepped back, delivering a short stiff polite bow to the cowering heap, "Farewell, sir. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. I look forward to our next meeting." He turned back momentarily, thinking of one more thing that needed to be said, "Oh, and if I _ever_ hear of you obtaining another unfortunate, or of you seeking access to children or mistreating bondsmen, I will be back."

Finally away from that awful place, rocking down the poor roads leading back to the city, Lucifer studied the child across from him. Ernst was curled on the carriage seat, seemingly oblivious to the swaying and bumps of the carriage ride. He didn't move or speak, or even gaze out the window with the joyous overenthusiasm of normal human young. He only stared listlessly at the cushioned back of the seat pressed into his cheek, curled into himself, Lucifer's jacket pulled tight around him like a blanket.

Tragically, he had seen this state before, in Hell. If humans could not bear what was happening sometimes they would simply shut down, retreat into themselves until they practically became catatonic. Few ever returned to reality and their loops simply sat abandoned, as without the soul's participation demons took little enjoyment from the loop's events.

It did not bode well for this poor boy.

At least Wallner would not hurt anyone else. Somehow that was little comfort.

"You needn't worry. You're safe now."

No response.

"No one will ever harm you again." He tilted his head, trying futilely to make eye contact, "You needn't fear me, child. I am not a danger."

Still nothing. Lucifer cast about hopelessly for a way through.

The two humans seemed to be close. Perhaps that bond could elicit a response. "You know, Johann will be there. The two of you are friends, are you not?"

Finally, something. The child turned his head slightly to look at Lucifer, the corner of his mouth twitched, and a hopeful light flickered through his eyes, visible somewhere deep down in the dark waters of pain and fear.

The angel smiled reassuringly. "No one will harm you. You need not fear me. You are safe now."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Hello again everyone! A big thanks to all my readers, and a shout out to all of you that followed, favorited, and reviewed. You guys keep me writing!

**Laetitia-chan: **Well, here it is!** sexysorceress3001: **We have finally reached the beginning of the canon s4 timeline. From here on out, a lot of plot will overlay cases from s4 episodes.** Cathy Sullins: **Thanks!** Luinlothana: **As always, thank you so much for your review. I really enjoy our chats. :)** tsunamicats: **Many thanks for all your help. I have edited the previous chapter to be more in line with what you told me, and with my own further research. I finally found the actual year, and Austria did not ban slavery until 1811.** JayeMaru: **Thanks. I am a reenactor and hobby historian myself, with an emphasis on mid/late 1700s clothing and home life. It's a lot of fun getting to dig into court life in a slightly earlier period. :)** Guest: **European slavery was indeed tottering to its grave by 1760, but it was not quite dead. Austria, for example, would not ban slavery until 1811, a year that is pretty well in line with the rest of Europe. While few and far between, slaves did exist in Europe. Johann and his family have been in Europe for a couple hundred years at this point, a remnant of the largely Iberian- and Italian-based European slave trade of the 1400-1600s, and not the more colonial-based "triangle trade" of the 1600-1800s. No part of this was based on GWtW, although some was pulled from my own knowledge of Renaissance-era slavery in Europe, and American slavery of the Revolutionary period.** Guest: **Your wish is my command. Here you go!** MidnightWriter44678: **I have a lot planned. I really hope you like it. :)** ShelbyT: **Kinley's 'research' was a bunch of clickbait paired with bias and assumption. A PHOTOGRAPH OF RANDOM PEOPLE/PROOF THAT HE WAS IN A LOCATION (Chicago Fire) IS NOT PROOF OF WRONGDOING! LOTS OF PEOPLE WERE IN CHIGAGO! Chloe _thinks_ she has figured out the vulnerability. She is wrong, of course, but she thinks she knows.** Lharrison: **Read on…

I do not own Lucifer or its characters.

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

Another day, another case. A call had come in around six that morning and the responding officer found a body. So at eight Chloe found herself parked in a field scattered with white boxes, a beekeeper's farm outside LA.

Lucifer automatically lifted the crime scene tape for her, and as she walked under it Chloe checked her phone for what felt like the tenth time that morning.

"You seem distracted."

She didn't even look up as they walked. "I'm expecting a text from Dan. I thought he would be back by now. It's been a month, after all. School's gonna be starting soon."

"Do you want me to send Maze after them? You know, just for insurance."

Chloe glanced at his over-earnest face and made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, "What? In case he kidnapped her or something?" She paused. "No. No, Dan wouldn't do that." Chloe sighed. "I'm just worried. You didn't see the way he was acting at the hospital… I hope he's okay."

"It wouldn't be any trouble. Besides, they're friends, so I doubt he would mind too much."

She stopped, craning her neck up and looking at him seriously, "Dan and Maze are friends? Really?"

"Well, not 'friends,' per se. Close acquaintances? Distant friends, maybe? Partners in the occasional violent act of justice? They think I don't know but Maze is an open book."

"When were you going to tell me about this?"

Lucifer had an innocent Cheshire grin that strongly suggested he had never done anything wrong, ever, in his entire life. "I just did."

Chloe finally gave up.

"Hey, Ella. What'cha got?"

Ella beamed up at them, "Hey guys!" The analyst was knelt by the body, working, and remained there as she talked. "Okay, so, our victim is a 55-year-old beekeeper named Bob Goldbach. Cause of death…" She leaned over, grabbing the bagged item to better demonstrate on herself with hand gestures and sound effects. "…Honey scraper to the neck." Ella moved the victim's head to place her fingers demonstrably on his neck. "You can see here where our perp stabbed him. Pretty gnarly, right? I mean, who knew beekeeping was kind of badass?"

Chloe looked around, doing a quick study of the scene. One of the white boxes was toppled over on the ground, and some unis nearby were bagging it and cleaning it up. "It looks like one of the hives was attacked." She observed.

"So maybe Bob caught the killer stomping on his poor bees and they fought?"

"Possibly. Any witnesses?"

Ella shook her head, "None, sorry." She pointed. "But Bob's wife Lenore is over there."

Well, maybe the wife would have some answers.

"Okay. Great. We'll go talk to her. Thanks, Ella."

Lenore Goldbach was a sweet, unassuming woman with long dark hair, a white sweater, and a floral ankle-length skirt. She stood off to the side, staring at the confusion. Whether she was drowning in horror or simply to frozen by shock to feel anything at all Chloe could not guess. There were no tears, just a quiet devastation that was almost more heartbreaking.

On interview, she didn't know much. She was concerned when he didn't come in the night before, but simply assumed something had kept him out late down at the hives and she went on to bed. It wasn't unusual, thus her lack of concern. She was woken up by the police knocking on her door after a passerby called 911.

"Did he have any enemies that you know of? Anyone that disliked him, or anyone that he had disagreements with-"

"Anyone that hated him enough to do him in with a honey scraper, she means." Interrupted her partner, maddeningly blunt as ever.

Lenore's face paled but she just shook her head. "No one hated Bob. He was a gentle soul. He never even raised his voice." She looked like she might cry from remembering.

Chloe continued, determined to keep the interview on track. "And you can't think of anybody who may have wanted to hurt him?"

Lenore shook her head, looking sadly at the ground, visibly upset that she couldn't be more help. "I can't. I mean, we… we sell honey at the farmers' market together. It's just one big family over there."

The woman tearfully continued. "I… can't imagine… who could have done this."

Her partner broke in, "Oh, you poor thing. And to lose him so suddenly; that must have been hard."

Chloe's eyes narrowed in confusion. What the hell was going on? Lucifer didn't act like this.

Hesitantly, she glanced up. Lucifer's face had assumed a saintly, concerned air.

Oh. _Oh no._

He walked over and delicately placed one comforting hand on the bereft woman's shoulder. "If there is anything that I can do to help, you must let me know at once. Anything at all. Don't hesitate. Because I _care_ about what you're going through."

_**Oh NO**_

Lenore just gave him a weird look, clearly uncertain what to do with or even make of consolation from cops. Chloe cleared her throat and attempted to silently signal him back to her side. When he finally did she concluded the interview. "Thank you for your help. I am so sorry for your loss."

So, Lucifer was going to be a pain in the neck today. Just what she needed.

* * *

Linda loved mornings. She typically woke up, got in a walk in the crisp morning air, then still had time to grab coffee on the way to the office. After that she had patients. Sometimes they were difficult, but at least she had a pretty good idea of what she was getting into from a quick glance at her schedule.

As soon as she unlocked the door, Linda could see this was not going to be one of those days.

There was an angel in her office. Oh granted, she knew angels, but they had all gone pretty native. No one would have known Lucifer or Amenadiel from a human off the street. This one, on the other hand, looked like a figurine from a nativity set.

For a split second she thought it was Lucifer. The creature fiddling confusedly with the small wicker balls near the window had the same sharp handsome features, curly dark hair, and shining alabaster wings that he had. But Lucifer never would have had his wings out so casually in her office, and this one was wearing elaborate robes, engraved armor, and roman-style sandals that Lucifer wouldn't have been caught dead in. His hair was longer too, short curls fluffed about his head like a renaissance painting.

On seeing her he blushed and hurriedly replaced the balls, like a child caught playing with something he shouldn't. His demeanor and manner were instantly changed, from pensive, adorable confusion to dignified calm. His face assumed a frank, open gaze with a slight reassuring smile, one hand held out towards her as if he was trying to coax a small animal or obstinate cat. "Do not be afraid, human. I am an angel: a servant of God. My name is Michael."

He seemed so very serious about the whole thing, once she was certain he wasn't there to hurt her it took everything Linda had not to laugh out loud. She had slept with two angels and was best friends with a demon, she was so very far past being frightened by celestials outright it was ridiculous. She was just thinking about how to explain to the poor dear that it wasn't polite to break into people's locked offices.

What finally escaped her mouth was more accidental than anything else. "I… didn't realize Lucifer has a twin."

Michael looked momentarily confused. "Lu- Oh, Sam! Of course. Well, I'm not surprised. I have not seen him in… a long time." A sad smile turned his lips. "He never liked being twins anyway." He paused awkwardly, turning serious once more. "I… heard about how much you have helped him. I was wondering… if… maybe…"

Linda gave him a welcoming smile, "Why don't you sit down."

The angel nodded, then awkwardly navigated his way to the couch, his wings clearly causing difficulty in the small room. He perched there, still visibly uncomfortable, staring about the room as though in careful study of its contents.

Linda sat down in her own chair, still smiling. "So, first time on Earth?"

Michael forced his focus back to her. "No, not exactly. It has been a long time though. I was just wondering, what exactly is it that you do here?"

Linda had to take a moment to gather her thoughts. Usually when new patients came to her they at least new what a therapist was; thus the fact that they went looking for one. "Oh. Well, I suppose I'm… here for whatever you need. I can give you advice, help you talk through your feelings, if there's something bothering you, we can discuss it. You know, I guess, sort of a… professional shoulder to lean on."

Michael had that same slightly open-mouthed distant expression that his brother always had when he was carefully thinking through what she was saying. Finally he spoke. "Can I… Could I talk about Uriel… and Sam?" He looked down and lowered his voice on 'Sam,' as though ashamed of his own grief.

The therapist gave him a comforting look, "Absolutely."

She blinked, and when she opened her eyes he was gone.


End file.
